


Warn Children of the Risk of Death by Electrocution (Dammit, Man, I'm a Doctor and a Secret Agent)

by elanorofcastile, wook77



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-03
Updated: 2013-07-06
Packaged: 2017-12-17 23:03:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 21,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/872976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elanorofcastile/pseuds/elanorofcastile, https://archiveofourown.org/users/wook77/pseuds/wook77
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After waking to see a strange man sitting in his apartment, Leonard McCoy goes down the rabbit hole and into the Enterprise Organization with a bunch of genius secret agents. Events steamroll until Leonard is no longer just a doctor but an agent at a top-secret government organization trying to save the world from terrorists. He probably should've thought twice about ripping off those safety tags.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written for trekreversebang in 2010 and posted [here](http://braintwin-bamfs.livejournal.com/2920.html). Please click through to see the artwork that attaches to the fic by Elanorofcastile. 
> 
> There is not enough gratitude in the world for the betajob by djin7. She not only betaed the hell out of this thing but she also helped fill in plotholes and tweaked stuff and was generally amazing.

It's just a safety tag. That's it. Nothing important to anyone, except for the poor asshole who'd had to attach it to the blow dryer. _Warn Children of the Risks of Death by Electrocution_ it says and, in a fit of pique, he rips it off. He no longer has a child to warn about the risks of death by electrocution, therefore the tag is no longer necessary. 

The air is suddenly lighter - freer, somehow. He's not being crushed under the endless landscape of nothing that he'd been facing down in his life without Joanna. Deciding that if ripping one tag off was good, two would be better: he marches to his bedroom, strips the bed and rips – grunting, sweating and swearing – at the tag that refuses to let go until he forces it. There might've been a triumphant hoot given when he succeeds. There might even be a victory dance or two (ugly and completely arrhythmic) as he waves the fucking thing over his head. But, either way, Leonard isn't going to admit to it. 

A third, attached to the mini blinds, comes off easily and he continues to run through the rented space, ripping all the safety tags off all of them. If he has to stay in this awful, impersonal shithole that doesn't look a thing like his house - that glorious and beautiful house that he's still paying for - then by God, he isn't going to be fighting with the warning tags for the rest of his time here. 

Stopping his frenzy, Leonard realizes that he's panting in exertion, excitement, and nerves. So he goes to the kitchen, grabs the bottle of whisky and, forgoing a glass of any sort, he heads to his sofa – each cushion gloriously tag free – and slumps onto it. By the time the bottle falls to the ground, empty, he's forgotten that he's just spent two hours ripping security tags off things just as much as he's forgotten that he's got nothing left in an impersonal, far-from-home city that's doing its best to swallow him whole. 

When he wakes up from his awkward sideways slump, hair akimbo and drool dried on his cheek, he sees a strange man in the armchair next to his sofa. Hungover and groggy, he merely blinks a couple of times but the man doesn't disappear. 

"Doctor Leonard Horatio McCoy. Graduated from the University of Mississippi, Magna Cum Laude. University of Mississippi Medical School, same. Pioneer in the fields of Neurosurgery and Anatomical and Forensic Pathology. You've got quite a reputation in medical circles." 

"Who're you?" he mutters as he tries to keep from flinching from the brightness of the sun pouring through his opened mini blinds and the shocking amount of pain beating behind his temples. 

"Tell me, Doctor McCoy, what made you rip the tags?" 

"Huh?" 

The man merely reaches towards the beat-up coffee table and flips open a manila folder. "Leonard Horatio McCoy. Soon-to-be ex-husband of Jocelyn McCoy, and father of Joanna McCoy. Law abiding citizen. You've ripped exactly three tags in your entire existence and, yet, in the space of two hours, you ripped close to one hundred safety tags. Tell me why." 

"Why what? Who the hell are you? What the hell are you doing in my apartment?" His brain's finally waking up enough to realize that this isn't a hangover-inspired hallucination that will be cured by drinking some water. Though water might help him to figure out just what's going on. 

"There's water next to your head, if you care to sit up. Aspirin, as well." The man opens his mouth but Leonard holds up a hand, silencing him.

In the blessed relief that the silence brings, he sits up, grabs the water and the aspirin and downs both as quickly as he can. The water quickly follows. Figuring that there isn't anyway that this could get worse, he holds out the cup. "Since you've made yourself at home in my apartment, you can get me another damned glass of water." 

"Were you drinking before or after you removed the tags, Doctor McCoy?" The strange man asks as he grabs the cup and fills it from the faucet. 

"You the tag police? I thought that was just a joke. Rip a tag and the scary men come to arrest you." 

"We're no joke, Doctor McCoy."

"That's fantastic. The tag police really are here to get me. And I wondered how my life could possibly get worse." 

"If you could answer my question," the man says as he brings a second glass of water to Leonard. 

"I ripped 'em because they were there, I was completely sober, unfortunately. Thought consumers had every right to rip off the tags? You going to arrest me for inappropriate tag ripping now or can I take a shower first?" 

"I'm here to offer you a job." 

"I've got one." Leonard drains the glass of water and then forces himself to stand up to head towards the tiny bathroom. 

"In an inefficient, second-rate hospital in a small city that barely deserves the name." 

"Hey, it's near the water." He calls from the room.

"I can offer you more." 

"How're you going to top this?" Leonard's smirking as he leaves the bathroom. He gestures around towards the small place and, more, towards the crappy city surrounding them. "How the hell are you going to beat this?" 

"I can triple what you're making now, give you a state of the art facility and lab, and promise you interesting cases that will challenge you rather than bore you into an alcoholic's early grave." 

"And just what did I do to deserve this amazing opportunity?" 

"You ripped the tags." The man stands, scoops up his folder and then calmly places a business card on the table. "Call me if you're interested."

~*~

The card haunts him for a day. Two days. A week. A month.

Eventually, Leonard grabs the phone, pounds the numbers into submission and then snarls, "Where?"

~*~

Leonard is half-expecting a place that looks like a scene from _Men in Black_ , space-aged and super-secret.

What he gets is all that and more. He pulls up to a small, non-descript guardhouse in the middle of an industrial complex. The clichés continue as a guard approaches his car, demands to see some identification and then waves him through. As he drives through the gate into the complex, he starts to laugh. Leonard looks around the what appears to be abandoned complex as he slows his car down, he half expects a super-villain to come running out being chased by James Bond. They have to be smoking crack or sniffing glue. Then again, they'd found him because he ripped a bunch of security warning tags so who was he to complain about it? 

Hell, at this point, if aliens poured out of the building that he has just parked in front of, he'd figure it's par for the course. He takes a moment to pause, breathe deeply and wonder, again, just what the fuck he's doing here. Then he thinks of the decrepit hospital and his broken down career and his daughter a thousand miles away from him and the custody arrangements and every other thing in his fucked-up miserable life. He's got nothing better to do than head down the rabbit hole after Alice. 

The door to the building opens, and the strange man from his sofa walks out. Now or never, and so he takes the keys out of the ignition and steps out of his car. 

"Doctor McCoy, glad to see that you accepted my invitation." Pike offers his hand. McCoy shakes it without question; his mother taught him right. 

Though his mama wouldn't be best pleased with his sardonic, "Give me your spiel." 

"Welcome to Area Fifty-Three." 

Leonard raises his eyebrow. "Thought all the alien shit was in Area Fifty-One." 

"We have nothing to do with aliens." Leonard notices that he doesn't protest their existence. He shivers as Pike continues, "Here, we deal with terrorist threats. We are an elite organization made up of a partnership between the CIA, the FBI, Interpol and the former KGB." 

"Oh yeah? Going after Doctor Evil, are we?" Leonard follows Pike into the building. 

"Unfortunately, there are no sharks with lasers mounted on their heads for us to attack," the man quips with a laugh. Leonard finds his annoyance changing into a grudging level of respect. If the man can laugh at his own organization, perhaps this isn't as bad as it could be. "I'm Christopher Pike and I run this organization." 

"Want to tell me about the tags?" 

"Not at the moment, no. Instead, I'd like to introduce you to the facility, our mission and your role in our future." 

"Fantastic. Lead on." 

Pike only nods in return, seemingly choosing to ignore Leonard's dry tone, and approaches a small keypad where he presses his thumb against the sensor before leaning in and scans his retina. From there, he swipes his badge, keys in a code and then the door hisses open. "Welcome to Enterprise." 

Leonard wishes that he hadn't tossed his sunglasses into the car as he enters the room behind Pike. The room gleams with reflective surfaces and giant screens, computer terminals and far too much light. The glare is overwhelming as his eyes adjust. There are plenty of people circulating the room, all looking rather normal for such an odd introduction. 

"How many of them rip the tags?" 

"Two." 

"Only two?" 

"We have a variety of ways of recruiting, Doctor McCoy. Would you like to see the medical facilities?" 

"Why not?" He follows Pike through the maze of brightly lit corridors, barely avoiding being run over by a sprinting woman heading back the way they'd just came before they enter yet another brightly lit area as the elevator heads down and spits them out in the medical lab. 

"We have a state of the art facility. I must say that your technique grafting neural tissue onto the cerebral cortex has saved lives." Pike gestures a man over and introduces him, "Doctor M'Benga, Doctor McCoy. Doctor McCoy is joining us as the Chief Medical Officer of this facility." 

"Now wait just a damned minute-" Leonard starts but Pike holds up a hand, silencing him. 

"You'll notice that this entire facility not only actively practices medicine, but it is also a research facility. We've worked on countless cures for everything from blood disorders to skin grafting. I'm certain Doctor M'Benga could cover the specifics with you, bring you up to speed. However, that will have to wait until we finish the tour." Doctor M'Benga salutes and then heads back to where he'd been working. "Come along, Doctor." 

"I haven't said that I'm joining you." 

"You already have." 

"Explain it to me. Act like I'm an idiot and use small words." 

"You accepted the invitation. If you weren't already committed to joining us, you would have remained at your dead-end job, eventually burning out and resorting to the bottle for succor and courage to get through your day." 

"You're a really shitty salesman." 

"This way, please, Doctor," Pike says and leads the way deeper into the facility. "Your office is in the medical facility, of course. We run a variety of programs, which you will have to become familiar. As we are a covert operation, you will need to keep the details of your work completely quiet. As a doctor, however, I assume you are well used to keeping private details private." 

"Like I'm ever going to tell people about this. No thanks, I prefer to live the remainder of my days outside of an asylum. Do any of these 'operations' involve human experimentation or biological weapons? I didn't take the Hippocratic Oath to become Mengele. That's not what I do. I heal people."

"Of course not. Our medical program is, instead, geared towards an investment in our operatives, you might say. We look to be on the cutting edge of medicine to heal any damage the operatives might incur while out in the field. For example, your cerebral grafting technique allowed one of our operatives to regain control of their body and walk while doctors in the private sector gave up hope." 

The more the tour continues, the more Leonard is both intrigued and regretting his decision to drive down. By the end of it, they're back in the medical facility and McCoy cannot resist running his hands over some of the equipment, picking it up and playing with it. There's so much more he could do here. 

"We'll see you next month, Doctor?" Pike asks from beside him, startling out of his contemplation of the scanner currently in his hand. 

"Maybe." 

Pike only smiles at him in response. Leonard shakes his head and follows Pike out into the sunshine, happy that the glare is much less than it had been inside. He shakes Pike's hand, pulls out his car keys and gets into his car.

~*~

"Nothing can possibly go wrong. It's a great plan. Hell, it's _fantastic_ even."

"The probability of injury is – "

"Relax! Nothing can go wrong!"

~*~

"Oh for Christ's sake. The entire industrial complex and they have to block the one way out? Assholes," Leonard mutters as he stares at the barriers blocking him from the known exit. The workmen blocking the road with giant pieces of equipment wave him off to the right and, after cursing under his breath once more, he heads to the right. "At least they had the sense to have it properly marked. They couldn't have waited until I left, though? Who the hell works on –"

His rant is interrupted by the body that crashes into his hood, rolling up before it slides back down and into the street. Brakes screeching, he swerves to the side in a desperate attempt not to run the _damned idiot_ over. As soon as his car comes to a complete stop, Leonard's out the door and running around to check the damned fool over. 

"What the hell were you thinking off, you damned fool?" He's never been accused of being nice, after all. Plus, he's got a giant dent on his hood. The man holds his head with one arm, rolling onto his side and clutching at his ribs with his other arm. "Probably some broken ribs and a damned concussion to go along with it. And of course we're way out in the middle of some damned - _Holy Mother of God!_ "

Yet again, his rant is interrupted. This time, however, it's by the ricochet of bullets. They're out in the middle of the street and, judging from the noise, the shooter is across the road from them. If he can get the car between the shooter and them, he can continue to provide care for the damned fool in addition to calling in for help. Except his cell phone is in the car currently being riddled with bullets. Goddammit, it might be a piece of junk but it's his only mode of transportation. 

First he drives the two hours to get to DC. Then he spends hours going around a crazy facility run by crazy people. Then some moron runs into his car and now his car's getting shot up.

"You better damned well appreciate this, you bastard," Leonard mutters before grabbing the man and dragging him behind the car. Glass shatters behind him, peppering his hair, as the window explodes. 

"Parents were married," the man mumbles as Leonard crouches over him to protect him from the glass as the back window follows the front window. 

"You get run over and we're now getting shot at and all you can comment on is the bastard' remark? What about, 'what the fuck were you thinking?' You think you can answer that?" 

"Trying to get away from them," the man mutters again. "Gotta get away." 

"Oh, now that's just great. Come to see just what the hell's going on and get dragged into a gunfight. Dammit, I'm a doctor, not a soldier!" 

"Doctor? You think you could," the man pauses and then gestures at his head. "I got blood in my eye. Don't think I can shoot back until I can see." 

"You're in no shape to be shooting anyone. Come on, we're getting out of here so I can see to you." Leonard looks through the shattered windows of his car, briefly debating retrieving his cell phone and then ducking down quickly as he hears more bullets pinging off the car. He looks around and sees the entrance to a building less than fifty yards away. He should be able to get the both of them inside, put some concrete between him and the bullets instead of his poor car which is definitely dead after this. 

"How're we going to do that?" The man tries to push himself up and then slumps back down. "I think I broke my arm. Can't feel my toes, either." 

"Hop on," Leonard says as he scoots around so that the man can climb onto his back. "We're going to make a run for it. Hold on tight." 

"Seriously? You can't carry me, man, no way." 

"Shut the hell up, climb on and hang on. I'm not dying for your ungrateful and insulting ass today. Either I go with you or I go without you." 

"Think I'd prefer to come along. Might as well, don't have any better offers for dates at the moment." The man slings his good arm around Leonard's neck and his injured arm around Leonard's chest. "You sure about this?" 

Leonard doesn't answer. Instead, he holds onto the man's arms and then pushes off the ground, sprinting for the door. The bullets follow but, thankfully, the metal door slams shut behind them. Leonard locks the door and then heads up the stairs to find a secure and defensible room. Preferably a room with a damned phone. First, though, he's got to get this guy somewhere safe and check him for injuries. 

Leonard picks the room at the end of the hall. It's got a bunch of windows but it's the furthest from the stairs and it'll give him the most amount of time to get them situated. After carefully setting the man down, Leonard starts to check him over, starting with the head injury. He rips a strip off his shirt and wipes at the man's face. "Watch my finger." 

"What's it supposed to do?" 

"Just watch the damned thing," Leonard says and drifts his finger across the man's field of vision. The man's eyes track it fine so there shouldn't be much of a concussion. He then palpates the man's chest, lifting his shirt and stripping him efficiently. He can't help but notice how firm the man's body is as he feels the broken ribs. 

"Hey, now, I don't put out on the first date, especially without knowing your name." 

"McCoy, Leonard McCoy." 

"Jim." Jim offers his hand and McCoy shakes his head ruefully before grasping it and giving it a perfunctory shake. 

"Well, Jim, want to tell me just what you've dragged me into?" Leonard asks as he lifts Jim's arm and runs his fingers along it, clearly feeling the break in the lower part of his arm. 

"Three armed men, part of an unknown group. They came out of nowhere. Started shooting, didn't even bother to buy me a drink first or anything." 

"Why would they – wait. Nevermind. Forget I asked anything. I don't want to know." Leonard grasps Jim's leg and starts to check for any breaks there, too. He doesn't find any but Jim's ankle gets him a hissed indrawn breath. 

"Dammit, I broke my right arm!" Looking up, Leonard sees Jim fumbling for his gun. 

"Give me that before you shoot me," Leonard snarls, grabbing the gun and setting it to the side. 

"Do you even know how to use that?" 

Almost as if in response to Jim's question, Leonard hears the door to the stairwell slam open and footsteps in the hallway. Doors bang as the attackers go from room to room, checking for them. Leonard puts his finger to his lips at Jim and then grabs the gun, turning to put himself between Jim and the attackers. 

When the door opens, gun barrel poking through, Leonard doesn't hesitate. He shoots the attacker in the chest, calmly standing and approaching to shoot the next one in the chest and then the third one in the hallway. It only takes a few seconds until every black-clad and helmeted attacker is on the ground. 

"Where'd you learn to shoot like that?" Jim asks from his corner. 

"I'm from Georgia," Leonard answers, matter-of-factly. His daddy taught him to shoot just like his granddaddy taught his daddy to shoot. Every boy in the Peach state in his day learned to shoot. Without taking his eyes off the attackers, he cautiously approaches to check for a pulse. 

"Huh, well, Leonard McCoy," Jim says as he pushes at the ground. 

"Don't even think about it. I'm going to go back downstairs and get my cell and call the police. 

"There isn't a need for that, Doctor McCoy," Pike says as he enters, pulling off his gloves and helmet under his arm. "You can put the gun down." 

"The fuck?" Leonard looks up as the bodies in front of him stand and pull of their helmets. 

"Told you he'd go for the chest shot," Jim says behind him.

"Of course, Kirk," Pike says, waving a hand dismissively. "Doctor McCoy, we look forward to working with you." 

"Someone want to tell me what the hell just happened before I stop going for the chest shot and start going for the head shot?" Leonard waves the gun towards the men in front of him. 

"It's sort of like an entrance exam. You don't rescue me, you don't get into Enterprise. It's pretty cool, isn't it?" Jim explains, wincing at his arm as he moves. 

"You people are fucked in the head. You shoot real, fucking bullets at me to see if I can dodge 'em proper for you? What sort of damned idiots are you?" 

"We have to ensure that you are willing to defend a team member which your effective actions in protecting Jim illustrated efficiently. There is a high probability of recruits failing this exercise. Thus, this exercise removes those that find themselves incapable of working to the peak levels that Enterprise demands." 

"Wanna pull that stick outta your ass and explain it to me in English?" Leonard instantly dislikes the haughty man closest to him. 

"What Spock means is that we had to make sure you'd protect us if you get sent out on a mission. Which you did so you're in. Now if someone could help me up, I'd appreciate it." 

"You got hurt?" The Asian man asks, smirk crossing his face. Leonard likes him.

"Not too much." 

"He means that he broke at least two ribs, his wrist, and likely his ankle."

"You got your ass handed to you," the Asian man says, smirk splitting into a giant grin. "During a training mission. Pay up, Kirk." 

"Oh fuck you, you didn't do it. McCoy did." 

"I did not." 

"Totally did. Well, your car, anyway. Not cool to hit a man with a car, you know." 

"Not cool to shoot live ammunition at an innocent bystander, either!" 

"Rubber bullets. We wouldn't use real bullets at you," Sulu interjects before jerking his thumb at Jim. "Him, maybe. But not you." 

"We can discuss this at another time. Sulu, Spock, take Kirk to medbay. Doctor McCoy, a moment." Sulu and Spock push past Leonard at Pike's words and pick Jim up.

"That was impressive shooting." Pike reaches his hand and Leonard only hesitates for a few seconds, all right, almost a minute, before handing the gun over. 

"Yeah, well, I don't know if I want to join you. Especially after this little stunt." 

"Take some time to think about it." 

"In the meantime, you owe me a car. Your guys shot it to hell and what they didn't do, Kirk's body did." 

"Dude. It's a Buick," Jim says as he's carried past Leonard.

"It's still my car." 

"But it's a Buick. An _old_ Buick. We did a favor to humanity blowing that piece of shit to kingdom come. Wait. We didn't use the explosives? Shit, Sulu, I thought you were going to use the rocket launcher." 

"Spock wouldn't let me." 

"Dammit, Spock." 

"It seemed extraneous. We achieved the necessary results without the overutilization of firepower." 

"But we could've blown it up." 

"It's my car, Jim. My only mode of transportation, by the way, and considering I still have to drive back to Harrisburg, it's a hell of a pisser that I don't have a car, anymore." 

"You can have a company car." 

"Great. Thanks, the sooner the better," Leonard says, agreeing to whatever can get him away from these crazy bastards. 

"Still say it's a Buick. It deserved to die." 

"Asshole." 

"I'll give you a ride back to get you a vehicle," Pike says, gesturing for Sulu and Spock to carry Jim ahead of them. 

Less than an hour later, Leonard's studiously not thinking about his day as he drives up the highway towards Harrisburg, cruising along in the late model black sedan from Enterprise. The car handles like a dream, gets fantastic gas mileage and has a radio that works. So what that this little trip netted him a better car for now? Bunch of damned idiots and morons.

**~*~**

The entire _concept_ of secret government agencies that recruit people simply because they're reckless in ripping the security tags off equipment is beyond belief. It's like some scene out of a movie or something. Even with the proof the car, it's hard to believe.

Thus, as a day turns into a week into two weeks, he ignores the visit to D.C., enjoys the car and continues to go about his day. The weather in Harrisburg matches his mood. It's been dreary and overcast, perfect for creating snarls of traffic up and down Front Street. Even the benefit of the working radio has worn off under the strain of the traffic as the morning DJs babble about dirty laundry and neglect to tell anyone about the damned mess in front of him. He's going to end up being late, even with leaving fifteen minutes early. Cursing under his breath, he grabs for his new cell phone (the one that wiped out his meager checking account) and calls in to the hospital, telling them that he'll be late.

By the time he reaches the hospital, his curses are full out loud and directed towards his fellow drivers. His mood doesn't improve as he enters the hospital and picks up the folders for his first case. One glance at the name has him rolling his eyes, muttering under his breath and slamming into the exam room. Yep. Same James Kirk.

"What the hell are you doing here?" 

"See, I got hit by this car and – "

"Oh yeah? And what were you thinking when you ran into the damned thing?" 

"Ouch, ouch, oh man this hurts, ouch?" Jim smiles at him, his expression completely angelic. And bullshit. But, still, Leonard can't help the answering grin spreading over his face. 

"Seriously, Kirk, what are you doing here?" 

"Call me 'Jim' and I'm here cause M'Benga refuses to treat me. He said if I was going to go around getting hit by cars then I should go see the guy who hit me." Jim holds up a finger when Leonard starts to say something and then reaches into his cast and pulls out a folded slip of paper. "Plus, I brought you money." 

"Gee, a sweaty check. You couldn't have stored that in your pocket like a normal person?" 

"Thought it'd be more dramatic to pull it out of my cast." 

"Oh, it's dramatic all right," Leonard says as he rolls his eyes. 

"Cut the snark, there, Wild Bill." 

"Wild Bill?" 

"You're one helluva shot. Spock's still pissed you took him down before he even got the door open. Which, by the way, was awesome." 

Leonard specifically ignores the reminder of the DC visit as he leans against the bed, crosses his arms and asks, "So what's the check for?" 

"Well, we sort of blew your car to bits. Spock finally said 'ok' because the bullet damage was too much to fix, so experimented with a range of explosives to see how they interacted with one another. One thing Spock loves is an experiment. Dude's obsessive about experimenting. Well, not _experimenting_ but experimenting. So we blew your car up and it made this giant explosion. Did you catch the story on the news about the explosion in West Virginia? Katie Couric was really good in that segment, wasn't she? Anyway, that was your car. So Pike said we had to pay you for your car, time, hassle an, I quote 'dealing with Jim'. I tried to tell him that getting to meet me was payment enough." 

Yep, Leonard's definitely lost control of this conversation if he ever had it at the beginning. Instead of trying to regain it, he reaches out, snatches the check and then boggles at the amount. "My car wasn't worth nearly this amount." 

"Dude. Your car wasn't worth _anything_. Total piece of shit meant for old ladies that look like q-tips taking their cars out for Sunday walks." 

"You really want to start insulting the guy about to play with your broken bones?" 

"I'm fine! Nothing wrong. Seriously, perfectly all right, just wanted to hand you your check." 

"And you couldn't have mailed it?" 

"Naw, I'd rather see where you work. This place is the pits. You should work for us." 

"If you're not here for treatment, the conversation's over. I've got actual sick patients out in my actual emergency room." 

"Want to go for some food later? Maybe show me around?" 

"No." 

"Drinks?" 

"No." 

"Guess you're not inviting me back to your place?" 

"No." 

"Where is your place?" 

"None of your damned business." 

"Least you could do is buy me a drink after you ran me over." 

"I've got work to do, Jim." 

"What time're you off?" 

"I'm a doctor." 

"And?" Jim draws out the word and Leonard barely resists smacking him. 

"That means that I go home whenever I finish with the last patient I get before what might be my quitting time or it might not be." 

"Here's my number, call me," Jim says as he hands over a card. "That's my cell if you want to show me around town. I'm here overnight." 

Leonard takes the card against his better judgment. 

"See you later, Annie Oakley." Jim offers a salute and then saunters (as best he can, considering the walking cast and boot on his leg) past the nurses' station as Leonard watches him go. 

It takes him a good five minutes to realize that not only is Jim out of sight but that's Leonard's still watching him walk away, check fluttering in his hand.

**~*~**

Within a month of moving to Harrisburg, Leonard's learned more about food than anything else.

You want a great hot dog, you go to The Spot. You want a bunch of barely legal people pushing through large crowds of people for ridiculously priced highballs, you go to the Hardware Bar. You want good stromboli, you head to Jo Jo's. You want good down-home cooking, you head to Hoss's. 

You want the best pastries ever, and you go to Dingeldein's. Crazy name. Amazing baked goods. After a day from hell, Leonard decides that, now that he's financially solvent because of the check he's just deposited into his account, he deserves a fantastic pastry. 

As he's debating what kind of pastry he wants, whether it's an éclair or a napoleon or, hell, both, a car catches his eye as he looks in the rearview. It's another black, late model, domestic sedan. Dammit, if Jim Kirk and his crazy band of secret agents think that they can take up even more of his time and distract him from the consumption of amazing baked goods, they've got another think coming. By the time he crosses the bridge onto the West Shore and gets off at New Cumberland, the car's caught up until it's the only one behind him. 

Thankfully, the streets of New Cumberland are old and wind in on themselves. It only takes a few turns, a couple of backtracks and a quick visit to a laundromat's confusing parking lot before he's back out on the main street, parking and heading into Dingeldein's. He gets the éclair, the napoleon and a couple of cookies for tomorrow, then heads to the car. 

He's mostly forgotten about the whole incident but it's as he's crossing the bridge back into Harrisburg that his car's bumped from behind. And then bumped again. When he looks into his rearview, he sees the same car following behind him before it comes at him again. 

"That is it. That is _goddamned it_!," he mutters as he grabs his cell phone, pulls out the business card and then dials Jim's number as the car bumps him again, sending him towards the cement barrier. 

"Yo, Wyatt Earp, what's up? Change your mind about showing me around?" 

"I'm not interested in your tests so stop ramming my damned car before you wreck another one." 

"Huh?" Jim sounds honestly boggled, but Leonard's not going to buy it. Not as the car speeds up, rams him again and starts forcing his car towards the rig in front of him. 

"Dammit, Jim, I'm a doctor, not a stunt driver. Knock it off!" He slams on his brakes and tries to slow the pair of cars down but he's still being pushed closer to the rig. The cars next to him have backed off so he might be able to slide to the side and get out from between the car behind him and the trailer. 

"What the hell are you talking about?" 

"I know what you're doing – "

"Why don't you tell me everything going on? Act like I'm an idiot." 

"You are a thrice-damned idiot! Stop wrecking the car you let me borrow. I'm going to end up under the trailer if you don't!" Leonard's letting the panic leach into his voice but the trailer's coming on way too fast. Oh fuck it, he's going to try to get into the next lane and race away. Anything else is going to end up with him under a trailer.

"Where are you? I'm on my way. Don't do anything stupid." 

"That isn't you behind me? You're not shitting me?" 

"No shit. Just keep going. Stay on the highway and tell me where you are." 

Leonard describes where he's at as the trailer approaches and his brakes are smoking. Jim starts talking him through how to get out from between where he's at and then he's shooting down the highway, heading towards Hershey. He's dodging through traffic, the car still inches behind him as he makes careless lane changes and barely avoids the glut of traffic. As the highway weaves through Harrisburg, another car (and of course it's black and domestic) comes racing up the highway and sideswipes the car trying to kill him. There's a loud crash but Leonard's heart is racing too hard and too fast for him to do more than look behind him, catalog that the cars seem far away and continue racing down the highway. 

His phone rings and he fumbles for it, not even realizing that he'd dropped it. "What the hell is going on, Kirk? You had better fucking tell me!" 

"You're all right, just slow down, don't attract any more attention. You know a place that's safe?" 

"We're almost there."

"I'm right behind you." 

Leonard looks back and sees that black, domestic car cruising behind him, its side smashed up. Instead of thinking about what just happened, Leonard concentrates on his breathing, slowly in and slowly out as his heart rate slows down. Within a few minutes, he's pulling into the parking lot and walking towards the building. 

"Oh man. Seriously? This is awesome. We don't have anything like this in Iowa." 

"Iowa?" 

"Yeah, Iowa. Why? You got a problem with Iowa?" 

"No, Jim, what I've got a problem with is some random asshole ramming my car on the highway and ruining my enjoyment of a napoleon. What I've got a problem with is that my life was nice and quiet again until you showed up this morning. So you wanna tell me what the hell is going on before I figure out a way to kill you before you leave?" 

"Oh man, there's a ride. I'll tell you all about it on the ride. Come on, Butch, let's go." Jim grabs his hand and tugs him into Chocolate World, where, surprise of all surprises, the line for the ride is extremely short so that they end up in a car by themselves. 

The theme music kicks on and then the narrator starts speaking and Leonard's no closer to understanding who had just tried to kill him let alone why. At his wit's end, he grabs Jim by the neck and forces eye contact. "Did you know that there are hundreds of ways to kill a man that aren't identifiable? I could, for example, slip a wide multitude of drugs into a drink and you'd never know it. Or, possibly, that free candy you're so insistent on. So how about you tell me exactly what the hell you and Pike have gotten me into?" 

"See, there's this group, they call themselves the Romulans." Jim pauses as they glide past the rollers. "God I love the smell of chocolate, don't you? Anyway, so these Romulans, they're sort of crazy secessionists. Think Texas and the confederacy and then add about a shit ton of crazy on top. That's who I think was after you." 

"Romulans?" Leonard's voice is dangerously calm. He can feel himself slipping into shock. He's a target of terrorists because he ripped off a bunch of security warning tags? He doesn't know what he did to the universe to make it hate him but whatever it was, he's willing to apologize for. Profusely.

"Yeah. They're fucking crazy, man." 

"How did they find out about me?" 

"I don't know." 

"But you have an idea, don't you?" 

Jim avoids making eye contact, which tells Leonard that he has more than an idea. The blatant change of subject that follows only reinforces the idea. "So look, you've got two choices. You can take Pike's job offer and get paid to hang out with us. And, by the way, we're rather awesome, I must say. Or you can come with me under protective custody and don't get paid." 

"How about I tell you to go get screwed and I go back to my life?" 

"Why?" Jim turns and looks at him as they go past the conching machines. The swirl of chocolate colored water back and forth as they simulate mixing the chocolate frames Jim as the car turns one way and then the other. 

"What?" 

"Why would you want to go back to it? There isn't anything there. You have a rundown place to live, a rundown hospital to work at with rundown patients and you drove a rundown car. Why would you want to go back to your rundown life?" 

"You going to shoot me if I don't come with you?" 

"Naw, we'll just blow up your car again." 

Leonard takes a deep breath, pauses and then nods. As if the universe is fucking with him even more, the music gets louder as a line of animatronic cows start singing and dancing in front of him. Never let it be said that the universe is not without a sense of humor.

**~*~**

It should depress him that it only takes about an hour to pack up everything he owns. Instead, he just shoves all of it into the backseat of the car and then slides behind the wheel to drive down to Area Fifty-Three and Enterprise. Guess he's going to be a super spy. At the least, he's going to find out how the hell Pike and his crew knew about the damned security tags.

"Hey, whoa, I don't think so," Jim says as he approaches the car. 

"You don't want to ride with me, you shouldn't have wrecked your car." 

"I wrecked my car saving you." 

"You still wrecked it. That's two cars you've killed around me. I don't trust you not to make it three by the time we get to DC." Leonard makes a show of locking the door on his side. 

"Not fair. I'm a damned good driver. I'm even certified!" 

"Certifiable, more like," Leonard mutters under his breath as he watches Jim wrangle with the decision of whether to ride in the passenger seat or continue the fight. Jim finally shakes his head and then walks around to the passenger seat. It would take a better man than Leonard to not smirk in triumph. 

"Fine, you drive but I control the music." 

"Fine. I've got both kinds so you pick." 

"Huh?" Jim looks baffled and Leonard's smirk spreads even further. 

"I've got country _and_ western." 

"Swear to God, if you actually have _Rawhide_ , you will be my new best friend of all time," Jim says as he straps on his seat belt and then pulls out a pair of aviator glasses. His grin is huge as he says, "It's one-hundred and twenty-one miles to DC. We've got a full tank of gas, half a carload of your life, it's bright and we're wearing sunglasses. Hit it." 

Leonard's got no response to Jim. His brain is stuck on the way that Jim's smiling at him, the beaming grin across his face that Leonard suddenly wants to feel under his fingertips. 

"Sundance, you all right?"

To cover up the way that his gut's tightening at the idea of touching Jim, he blusters, "Why the hell you calling me all these crazy names?" 

"I bet you have a cowboy hat." 

"You saw my boxes." 

"Not all of them. I bet there's a cowboy hat in there." 

Leonard resists looking towards the backseat and the hat that's carefully stored in one of the boxes along with the photos that he refuses to think about. 

"You going to turn on the music or what?" Leonard snaps. 

"Sure, I can do that," Jim agrees and then plugs his iPhone into the stereo, fiddles with it and _Rawhide_ comes out of the speakers. "Whenever you're ready, pardner."

**~*~**

Three months ago, he'd been living in a shitty little rental in the middle of a bad neighborhood in a small city while working at a rundown hospital. Now, he's sharing a fancy apartment with Jim Kirk, working at a top-of-the-line facility and learning far too much about international politics and intrigue.

Leonard doesn't care about the espionage. What he cares about is the ability to research and practice medicine. He cares about the way that he asks for something and he gets it instead of a lecture on how little money the hospital has for upgrades and that they're just going to have to make due with what they have. Instead of an almost factory-like conveyor belt approach to medicine, he's got engaged staff that take the time to treat the whole of the patient. He's inoculating for strange diseases and stressing exercise plans. Better, everyone is listening to him and incorporating his recommendations. 

Except for Jim Kirk.

Because, of course, it has to be Jim that refuses to listen to his recommendations. Though part of that problem could be that Jim still hasn't popped in for his physical. Leonard's just about to point that out to Jim as he dishes up breakfast but, then, Jim steps out of his bedroom, still toweling at his hair and dressed only in a pair of half-fastened trousers.

"Yo, Pat Garrett, watch where you point that thing," Jim says as he grins at Leonard. Leonard wonders, briefly, if his own trousers have come open and his dick's hanging out at attention but as he looks down, he sees the serving fork pointed right at Jim, sausage hanging from one of the tines. "Is that a sausage on your fork or are you just happy to see me?" 

"You would flirt with a dead body if you thought you could get lucky," Leonard mutters as he forces the breakfast sausage onto a plate and then shoves some scrambled eggs after it. "Eat your damned breakfast." 

"And good morning to you, honey. What are you planning on doing with your day?" Jim bats his eyelashes at Leonard. 

That's one thing that he enjoys about living here besides the whole lack of roaches thing. He likes the way that Jim takes his bad mood and turns it rather than grumbling about how Leonard should be happier to be alive, or how he should greet the day with a smile and a prayer of thanks or any of the other gibberish that Jocelyn would prattle on at him. You can't nag a man into turning his frown upside down. One of the many reasons why she is currently a thousand miles away from him, with his daughter in tow. 

"I was thinking that I'd finally give you a physical." 

"I bet you say that to all the boys." Jim bats his eyes at Leonard again. 

"Oh I do. And then I jab 'em with my needle. It's a very big needle. They love it." 

"Oh, tell me more." 

"That's all I've got." 

"That's it?" 

"That's it." 

"You sure you don't want to tell me exactly how big your needle is?" 

"I don't want to brag," Leonard says, rolling his eyes as he shovels scrambled eggs into his mouth. 

"Please, brag away – " Jim's interrupted by the sound of his phone ringing. 

"Jesus, Jim, do you have to have such an obnoxious ringtone?" 

"Shut up, it makes perfect sense. Pike is the ultimate secret agent man." Jim grins and then takes the call. "Yeah, boss? Uh huh. Yeah. We're on the way." 

Jim disconnects and looks at Leonard. "Come on, Doc Holliday, you get to go on your first mission." 

"Where're we heading?" Leonard heads to the bedroom to gather an overnight bag. 

"Boston."


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As this fic was written in 2010, I was, obviously, unaware of the Boston Marathon Bombing that would happen in 2013. Please note that this fic has discussions of terrorist attacks including one in Boston, discussed in this chapter. There are also discussions of 9/11 and various other made-up, fictional terrorist attacks.

The mission briefing is simple and to the point. Intel had been intercepted that the Romulans would take out a target in Boston. The intel hadn't clarified what target so Enterprise was to scout the locations most obvious, look for suspicious behavior, investigate staff and employees. Spock seems particularly disturbed by the news, if his more silent-than-usual silence is any indication.

Thankfully, Leonard's only along to observe and learn. 

Except by the time they get to Boston, it's too late. 

The Bunker Hill Monument explodes, scattering granite across the grass and causing the lodge building to topple. Emergency crews scramble towards it as they try to secure the scene and get the tourists out of the area. 

"Hurry it up, Sulu," Pike commands as their SUV rushes to the scene, emergency responder lights flashing as they join the crowd of police vehicles responding. 

"I'm going as quickly as I can, sir," Sulu responds as Leonard holds on to the armrest and tries to keep from leaning into Jim as they fly around a corner, barely keeping four wheels on the road. 

As they drive along, the harbor explodes into flames. Their radio transmits the information quickly, panic starting to bleed into the responders' voices as they relay the explosion of the _USS Constitution_. Leonard can see the smoke curling into the sky as he listens to the information coming through the police scanner. There'd been a tour group aboard at the time and the harbor patrol was a few minutes out. 

"Revere's house is gone, too. Someone's getting them all. I think we're under attack," comes one announcement. 

"Send crews to all historic landmarks. Let's secure the scenes. Shut the city down until the mayor can speak." There's more information with names called but Leonard's nerves are jangling. 

Pike turns and looks at everyone in the backseat, face somber as he says, "Most likely targets." 

"State House." 

"That is my guess, too," the young kid says. 

"I concur. The possibility for major loss of civilian life is extremely high should this be their target." 

"Sulu, get us to the State House." 

"We've just entered Old North Church. Found explosives. Attempting to disable." 

"We're clearing the Old Corner Bookstore. Encountering some civilian resistance." 

"King's Chapel is being cleared." 

"En route to Old State House." 

"South Meeting House is empty." 

"Sulu, pick it up," Pike orders as they careen down the streets. Emergency crews light up the street in front of them as they approach the State House. 

"Stop, hit the brakes, Sulu. Full stop, hurry!" Jim commands as they get even closer. "Stop! Stop! Stop!" 

Sulu slams on the brakes and the rest unfolds like slow motion as there's a flash and then flames and then the shockwave hits them, throwing vehicles out of its way as it tears through the surrounding areas. Buildings on all sides send waves of glass cascading down into the streets while bricks tumble. Their SUV crashes backwards, forced into a parked car as the building swallows itself and all the inhabitants. Pieces of brick crash into their windshield, causing it to fracture but hold. Leonard watches, unable to look away, as the golden dome topples into the cavern left where the building had been less than a minute ago. 

There's massive ringing in his ears as he watches Jim, Spock and the kid throw themselves out of the van, running towards the destruction. He can hear Jim yelling after Spock, catches every few words about safety and family and father. Rather than follow, Leonard checks on Sulu and Pike and then grabs his bag. He doesn't have enough to treat these people, not nearly enough to even try to treat more than the most rudimentary injuries. 

That doesn't stop him from hurrying towards the scene and organizing the ambulances and EMTs into a cohesive unit. Whether it's the shock of being in the middle of a terrorist attack or that they've lost too many comrades but the EMTs listen to him, look to him to lead them as they set up a field triage center. He's too busy working with patients to concern himself with the rest of the Enterprise team. They're there for another reason entirely, after all. 

He doesn't see the phone calls that Pike makes ensuring that his orders are followed and he doesn't see the way that Jim wrestles with Spock to keep him from entering a demolished building after his parents. He doesn't see Chekov taking readings and samples. He doesn't see Sulu scanning all the frequencies. 

He certainly doesn't see the film crews descend and start filming. 

All he knows is that there's a never-ending stream of broken bodies needing stabilization before they can even think of inundating the local hospitals. Jim's hand on his shoulder startles him into realizing that he's working under floodlights when he'd just been cursing the shadows from the sun. 

"Bones, I need you to take a look at a patient." 

"I've got plenty of them, Jim. Get in line." 

"It's Spock's dad." 

Leonard holds up a hand, finishes working on the patient currently in front of him and then follows Jim to where Spock sits next to an older version of himself. 

"I'm fine," the man says as Leonard puts the stethoscope on and holds it up to the man's chest. 

"Father, please," Spock says quietly. 

Leonard watches the man nod. "I appreciate your time, Doctor. You are doing a great amount for the people of Boston." 

"I don't need your thanks. I'm a doctor, this is what we do." 

"Still, the people of Boston owe you a great debt of gratitude. Your quick response has saved lives that would not have been saved had you not immediately organized a medical response." 

"Don't think you can really speak for the people of Boston." 

"As the mayor, I feel that I can." 

"Mayor?" 

"Yes. You may call me Sarek." Leonard nods in response and then quickly goes through an exam, checking his chest and reflexes. His eyes barely focus and the pupils barely react to the light he shines at them. 

"Well, Sarek, you're going to need more than I can provide. I suspect you've got a concussion and at least a broken rib." 

"Thank you, Doctor McCoy. I will seek care after I check on a few more things." 

"I suggest you seek care immediately." 

"There are other things that – "

"Please, Father, I have already lost one parent today. Do not make it two," Spock says with the most emotion that Leonard's ever heard from the staid man. 

"I will heed your advice." 

"Let's get you into an ambulance, sir," Leonard says as he helps Sarek stand and guide him. 

"You need to take a break," Jim says as he tugs at Leonard's shoulder. 

"I need to get these patients taken care of," Leonard snaps back as he shrugs Jim's hand off his shoulder. 

"You need to take a break before you become a patient yourself." 

"Dammit, Jim, I'm a doctor – " he can't finish before Jim's interrupting. 

"Exactly so: physician, heal thyself." Jim tugs at him again and Leonard's hand twists into a fist and then he realizes what he's doing as Jim's voice turns pleading, "Come on, Bones, take a minute. I'll even time it, if you want. Just step away and get a bottle of water or something for just a minute." 

"You're right, Jim," Leonard says, allowing himself to be led to the side. It's only as he steps out of the floodlights that he sees the camera crews. "Damned vultures." 

"They're doing a job, can't fault 'em for it," Jim says with a shrug. Spock and Sarek pace along beside them. 

"Doctor McCoy! Doctor McCoy!" one of the reporters shouts towards him. "Is it true that the mayor is dead?" 

"No comment," he snaps back as he blocks their view of Sarek. 

"Can you give us an estimate of the number of dead?" 

"Can you tell us if anyone's been pulled from the rubble?" 

"Can you tell us what your role is here?" 

"Doctor McCoy! Do you have any comment on the types of injuries sustained?" 

The questions roll over one another, blending into one giant shout and Leonard's frayed temper snaps. He turns towards the cameras, stalking over to them until he's probably zoomed too close on hundreds of television stations. "Look, you vultures, I've been here for hours dealing with people and you want to know what my role is? It's as a doctor. Something that I should be focusing on rather than your damned dumb questions. I don't know how many dead there are considering how I'm trying to keep more from joining those numbers. You want information, you go to some spokesperson to find out the numbers. I'm going to keep focusing on the living and keeping 'em that way. Now get the hell out of my way and stop interfering with my job!" 

With that, he retreats from the glare of the cameras and heads into the shadows, shoving past Sarek as Sarek approaches the cameras. 

"As you can see, I am still alive," Sarek starts addressing the reporters, as flashes go off at a frantic pace, and the reporters en masse start yelling questions once more, this time at the mayor. 

Once Leonard's far beyond the cameras, he starts pacing. It's tempting to punch the still-standing wall but he can't afford to injure his hands, not until more doctors get here to support the small team that's assembled. Rather than hit the wall like he wants, he props his arm against it and then lays his head on his arm. 

"They're going to be replaying that interview all over the place," Jim says from just behind him.

"Good. Bunch of damned vultures swooping in to make a buck off the poor bastards that died today." 

"You all right?" Jim asks, closer now, so close that his breath brushes across Leonard's ear. 

Leonard doesn't know how to respond to that. The truth makes him sound needy, steps over boundaries that he's established to keep himself apart from everyone. Of course he isn't all right. He's not going to be all right for a long time. He'd only supposed to be an observer, seeing how the Enterprise team works and incorporating himself into it. He's not supposed to be in the thick of things, running a triage and watching bodies, _people_ go by on their way out of the buildings, too little and too late. 

He's a doctor, not a miracle worker. There's little he can do for most of the people. He knows it but that doesn't help him deal with it. 

He's saved from answering by Jim's arms coming around him. The press of Jim's face between his shoulder blades comforts him, breaks his stoicism enough that, with his free hand, he holds on to Jim's crossed arms and pulls them closer. It scares him how much Jim's casual sympathy and comfort mean to him. 

"I should get back. It's been more than a minute." 

"Take another minute for yourself. Just stand here and take a minute," Jim murmurs against his back. 

Leonard's phone rings, breaking the moment. He fumbles it open, pushing away from the wall. Jocelyn's voice comes over the line, ""Lenny? Lenny, are you all right? Jo's beside herself. Will you talk to her?" 

"Of course," he wants to snap it out but he can't, not with the honest worry in Jocelyn's voice.

"Daddy?" Joanna sounds even younger than her ten years. 

"I'm here, baby girl. I'm just fine, I promise." 

"I saw you on the TV and they're saying someone blew up Boston and why're you in Boston with the bad men? You're supposed to be in DC! You're not supposed to be near the bad men! You better come home right now, Daddy!" She's sobbing by the end. 

"You remember how, when you'd get hurt, that I'd take care of you?" 

"Yeah?" 

"There's lots of hurt people here. They need my help." 

"I need you!" 

"Jo – "

"No! You keep leaving and then you end up there! You need to come home so I can look out for you!" 

"Jo, promise, I've got some great friends looking out for me. They're really good at their jobs." 

"I don't believe you." He's got no idea how to address Joanna about it. Then he realizes that not only is he still clinging to Jim's crossed arms, he's actually leaning into Jim's body. 

"You want to talk to one?" 

"Yes." 

Leonard doesn't step out of Jim's arms, decides to be selfish enough to stay there for as long as the comfort can last because he needs this. Instead, he reaches the phone over his shoulder and then waits for Jim to step away. Rather than step away, Jim lets go with one arm and takes the phone. 

"Yeah. I've been taking care of him for … yeah. I promise. He really is. Yeah, I do too." Jim leans into him further and Leonard doesn't think about how weird it is to be standing here. Not after the day he's had and the days he's about to confront. He'll take any and all comfort that he can get and if that means standing here far-too-intimately with Jim, then that's what it means. "All right but if you ever want to talk to me to check in, you have my number." 

Then the phone's back at his ear and he asks Jo, "You all right?" 

"No." Joanna's voice still has a hint of a quiver in it. 

"You better than before?" 

"No." 

"You believe Jim'll take care of me?" He doesn't address the way that he's a bit hurt that she thinks he can't take care of himself.

"Yes." 

"You mad at me?" 

"Yes." 

"I love you." 

Jim's arms disappear as his phone rings, _Secret Agent Man_ interrupting the silence around them.

"Love you, too, Daddy, but if you get hurt, I'm not going to love you no more." 

"I can deal with that. Won't stop me from still loving you, though." 

"Don't die, please." 

"I'll do my best not to." Jim taps his shoulder and then points to his watch. "I've gotta get back to it, baby girl." 

"Mom wants to talk to you, first." 

"Okay, put her on the phone." 

There's some shuffling and a few whispers and then Jocelyn's on the phone again. "Lenny, next time you decide to hare off to a terrorist attack, you better call your daughter and let her know where you are." 

"I would've called if you haven't been blocking me from seeing her for years, Jocelyn. _Years_." 

"This isn't the time or place to discuss this, Leonard." 

"If you want to yell at me for not calling the daughter you refuse to let me talk to, then it is. I'm doing what I can, Jocelyn. I'm abiding by your damned rules and the court." 

"Just call her more, please." 

Leonard starts to snap back, keep rehashing the way that he's been denied his daughter but, instead, he takes a deep breath and then says, "Thanks." 

"You're welcome." He hangs up the phone and then leans back against the brick. Jim's hand rests on his back, warm and appreciated. 

"You ready? We need to debrief and you need to get something to eat." 

"I need to get back to the triage." 

"Bones, we need to debrief. Pike's orders." 

"Fine," Leonard snarls and then turns and finds himself far too close to Jim. 

"Come on," Jim says, stepping back and then leading him away from the former State House.

**~*~**

"So what do we have, gentlemen?" Pike says as he paces the length of the hotel room while Chekov sits at the small table with Uhura. Spock sits in one of the armchairs and Leonard and Jim sit on one of the beds.

"We've got a blown up transport, multiple blown-up historic landmarks, hundreds if not thousands of dead civilians and no one has claimed responsibility," Uhura recaps for the group. 

"And?" 

"Cause of the bombings is still being investigated. Looks clear that it has to be a terrorist threat. Problem is that the Romulans are disavowing doing this." 

"Chances that they're lying?" With this, Pike looks to the entire room. 

"Approximately forty-six point three percent," Spock inserts before anyone else. 

"Based on?" 

"Historic actions and statistics. The multiple targets are not a hallmark of the Romulan attack methodology. They prefer one very large target, instead." 

"Yeah, why blow up the whole body when you can just take 'em out with a quick slice to the heart?" Leonard says dryly. Jim bumps his shoulder in response. When Leonard looks at him, he merely smiles and then squeezes Leonard's hand where it sits between them. 

"It does seem like overkill," Sulu says from his perch near the door. 

"What other organizations would do this?" 

"If you would like a complete list, I can assemble that shortly," Spock offers. 

"Do that. Sulu, what sort of explosives do we know about so far?" 

"High grade. I've never seen anything like it." 

"Get me more information," Pike demands.

"Aye, sir." 

"Kirk, anything?" 

"Each location had similar explosion patterns. Add in that they're all important revolutionary landmarks and my guts telling me that the perps had to be Romulan or former Romulan." 

Leonard wants to pay attention but the details and the conversations pass over him. Instead, he focuses on the television, concentrating on it rather than the image of all the bodies that had been beyond his help. 

"Spock?" 

"Statistical data computes to a likelihood of thirty-seven percent." Spock's voice drones on and Leonard reaches for the remote, changing the channel from a news station to what should've been a cable station. Instead, it's another news channel. And then another. And another. Each one has nothing but wall-to-wall coverage of the Boston Disaster. 

Leonard scoffs at the title. 'Disaster' has to be the understatement of the year if not the millennia. 

"Chekov?" 

"There is very little on the boards, sir. I've been monitoring the normal sites and a few extras but all I'm seeing is queries and celebrations. No one is claiming responsibility." 

"Looks like someone is," Leonard says as he gestures towards the television. 

"Turn it up," Pike orders as they all turn to the television. 

"Breaking news! A member of a group calling themselves 'Narada' are claiming responsibility for the massive terrorist attack in Boston." 

"Chekov," Pike says.

"On it, sir." Chekov looks away from the computer, putting on his headphones and, with fingers flying over the keyboard, starts searching for more information. 

"They've released a message and we'll play it in its entirety now." 

A man of indiscriminate age appears on the screen. The rest of the group lean towards the television. 

"Greetings. I am Nero. Today, you have experienced not even a tenth of the death and destruction that will be yours. Your pain will match the pain of all of Narada. You will not be safe again. Everything you hold near and dear to your hearts will be taken from you. Boston was only the beginning." 

The channel cuts back to the anchor. Pike gestures and Leonard turns the volume back down.

"Reactions?" 

"He's from one of the Midwest states. The way that he formed his vowels tells me that he is, in all likelihood, from Oklahoma. However, from his 'r', I can tell that he hasn't lived in Oklahoma for a few years." Uhura grabs her own laptop, tugging on earphones and bringing up the video of the Narada spokesperson. 

"He's definitely emotional. Feeling triumphant. They're going to strike again and do it soon," Jim says as he stands up and starts to pace. "Somewhere economically important. They've got the historically important taken care of. Now they're going to look towards financial or emotionally important. He wants it to hurt. I say emotional." 

"Spock?" 

"I must disagree. He will look for a target that eviscerates the people financially. Then he will remove their ability to survive next." 

"The trust is going to be the last to go. He'll go for the emotions next." 

"I respectfully disagree." 

Before Spock and Jim can continue the argument, Pike looks to Leonard. "Doctor?" 

"What the hell you asking me for?" 

"Your input is valuable." 

"Yeah? Then I say he'll go for both." 

"Likelihood?" 

"There are too many unknown variables." 

"Then find out." Pike claps once, pulling attention back to him. "Rest up, folks. Sulu, Chekov, you're in room 204. Uhura, room 206. Kirk, McCoy, room 207. Spock, you're with me in 208. We'll keep 205 for headquarters. Questions?" 

"Can I share with Uhura?" Jim says with a leer. Spock doesn't get the chance to hit Jim before Leonard smacks him. "Hey!" 

"Treat the lady with some respect." 

Jim throws him an affronted look but Uhura smiles at him. "I appreciate a gentleman." 

"Then I'm not surprised you don't appreciate Jim at all." 

"Hey!" 

"Go get some rest. Be ready to roll in five hours." 

Leonard nods and files out of the room. He can feel Jim at his back. Once they're in the room, Leonard flops onto the bed nearest the window. If he gets a couple hours of sleep now, he can be back out and doing what he does best for a few hours before Enterprise assembles once more. 

"Don't even think about going back out there." 

"You going to stop me?" 

"Hell yes I am. You're exhausted, Bones." 

Leonard turns his head towards the side and smirks at Jim. "Face it, you won't even know when I leave." 

"Oh yeah?" 

"Yeah." 

"What if I sit on you?" 

"Ha!" Leonard turns and smirks at Jim. 

"I could tie you up." Jim's grin turns feral. To hide the way that that grin goes straight to his dick, Leonard turns his face away from Jim and closes his eyes. 

"Good luck with that." 

"I could, if you like that…" Jim's voice trails off as the bed dips and Jim's hand trails down his body from the nap of his neck to the base of his spine. 

It's hard to resist arching into the touch. "Fuck off. I'm tired." 

"Is that the same as 'I have a headache, baby'?" 

"If that gets you the hell off my bed so I can go to sleep, then take it whatever way you want," Leonard says as he flops his hand back and forth. 

"All right," Jim says quietly, hand still resting on the base of Leonard's spine. The heat of that palm goes through Leonard's shirt, bleeding into his skin as he continues to resist moving into it. 

Jim's reaction isn't what he'd expected, either. Maybe that's why he doesn't arch but Leonard pretends that he's an adult and completely capable of resisting urges. Jim's hand finally disappears, the bathroom door opens before shutting and then the sound of water lulls him to sleep, fully dressed. 

When he wakes, Jim's hand is on his back once more. "We've got a meeting. You have a few minutes to get a shower and clean clothes." 

"Thanks," he mumbles as he pushes up, sending Jim's hand sliding down across his ass. 

"Welcome. Want help? I'm good at washing backs." 

Leonard only waves his hand at Jim as he walks into the bathroom. By route, he brushes his teeth and then turns on the water, stepping in before even testing the temperature. It's only after he's shampooed his hair that he realizes that his stuff has clearly been laid out for him as he doesn't remember doing anything but fall asleep last night. 

Hell, Jim had even laid out clean clothes for him, as he discovers when he steps out of the shower. Which means that Jim touched his briefs. The thought randomly pops through his head as he pulls them on. He dresses quickly, stepping out of the bathroom and toweling off his hair. 

"Thanks, Jim. Appreciate you taking the time to lay out my things." 

"I was doing mine, might as well do yours. You ready or need a few more?" 

"Let's head out." 

Jim nods, opens the door and gestures him through. The hand on the base of his spine isn't a surprise at all.

**~*~**

"Who is that?" the tattooed man asks as he watches the news feed once more. He watches as the man berates the reporters delightfully, and for a brief moment, he acknowledges and toasts it before going back to watching the 24/7 coverage. His grand plan is on every channel, including so many non-news channels that he allows a frisson of pride to course through him.

"I don't know." 

"Find out. Now." 

"Aye, sir. We're already on it." 

"Now that Enterprise has come out to play, we can accelerate our plans." 

"Shall we pack?" 

"History waits for no man." It's all the answer he gives and it's the only answer his crew requires.

**~*~**

Whatever the rest of the crew is doing to gather facts and figure out who, exactly, Nero is and why this entire situation has happened, it doesn't matter to Leonard right now. He's got a row of injured just like he'd had the night before

Somehow, he's turned into the de facto leader of the medical response teams. Doctors from around the nation have funneled in overnight until there are at least a hundred triage teams working in hospitals and other buildings across the city. Leonard's been more busy coordinating than actually treating. He's almost glad of the distraction, a break from dealing with the injured. 

Sarek stops by to catch up on what's happening. Leonard finds it hard to believe that Spock's father is the mayor of Boston. The family resemblance is undeniable. Obviously stick-up-the-ass is genetic. Still, as stiff and formal as Sarek is, he's obviously hurting for both himself and the city. 

Leonard walks with him around the rescue sites. It's only coincidence that they're nearby when the rescuers extricate his wife. It's Leonard that comforts Sarek as his face twists and his body collapses forward. Leonard's arms swing around Sarek, pulling him back to his feet and holding him steady. 

He doesn't see the photographer snap a few shots that become iconic of the entire scenario. Instead, he's concentrating on supporting Sarek as his wife's body is carried past them, small and fragile on a stretcher. Her face, surprisingly enough, is completely unmarred. It's a blessing and a curse. She only looks like she's sleeping. 

"I'm sorry, sir," he says as Sarek steps away from him. 

"Though I appreciate your words, there are many that have lost someone." 

Even two days ago, Leonard would've snapped at Sarek. Instead, he nods and heads back towards the main communications center. When they reach it, Spock steps out, taking his father's elbow and walking away. Jim steps out right behind him. 

"We're moving out." 

"I'm not done here, yet." 

"Bring Puri up to speed, then but orders are orders, Bones." 

"Of course, because when lives are at stake, orders always supercede." 

"Bones," Jim starts to say but breaks off. He reaches a hand out and then grips Leonard's arm firmly. "Our orders are important, too. You're not the only doctor here." 

"Fine," he bites out. "Let me find Puri."

**~*~**

"Leonard McCoy. Graduated Magna Cum Laude, University of Mississippi."

"Give me something on him. Something I can use." 

"He's a recent addition to Enterprise. Divorced. Has a child, eight years old." 

"Change of plans, gentleman. When they write the history book about us, they will say that the end of the world was delayed because of the suffering of one, small, girl."

**~*~**

"We have credible reason to believe that Narada will strike at one of three locations. Gentlemen?"

"I believe that the financial markets are the most likely target," Spock says and then starts to drone on about how much of the world's money funnels through New York, how often the New York has been the center of terrorist focus and the unique security challenges facing them. 

"Kirk?" 

"I don't agree. Nothing's more American than striking it rich - become famous, win a jackpot, the American Dream. I think that Las Vegas is the next target, if just to wipe out the dreams and hopes of every single person who has ever dreamed of the big win. In addition, if they're really former Romulan, they're going to enjoy wiping out all that sin and excess. We should all be studying scripture and bending over, begging their God for forgiveness for our hedonistic excesses: sex, alcohol, fun and money. It'll make a helluva roll of film to show the world, a modern day Sodom destroyed by the hand of God. Fire and brimstone raining down on the common man rather than any military target." 

"Sulu?" 

"Actually, after listening to Kirk, I have to agree with him. I was going to suggest San Francisco or Los Angeles but he made some extremely good points." 

"Thoughts?" 

Leonard stops listening as each of the members of Enterprise chime in with their support for or against a suggested target. When the room goes quiet and they're all looking at him, he demands, "What?" 

"Your thoughts?" Pike asks. 

"Jim's making sense. I'm not that familiar with Romulan thinking but I've seen the aftermaths and the reactions. People are going to run to their nearest church if bombings keep happening." 

"Chekov, run the statistics." 

"Aye, sir." 

"Sulu? Plot the possible target locations and where the best placement would be to achieve maximum damage. Narada has had too long to plan this. We need to catch up and catch up quickly." 

"Yes, sir." 

"Any other communications from them?" 

"Nothing, sir." 

While you're doing that, we'll pack up and head back to headquarters." 

Leonard starts to protest but Pike raises an eyebrow as he asks,"Would you prefer to see another disaster?" 

"I'd prefer to finish up here first. There's still a lot of people to care for." 

"Our job is to ensure that this doesn't happen again. Ever. So that's the job we'll finish. Any other questions?" 

Silence responds to his query and Pike nods. "Good. Let's get going people. Research on the road."

**~*~**

Leonard hates sitting on his ass but that's what he's forced to do as the rest of Enterprise plot and plan which cities could be targets and how they'd rescue them. It's frustrating as all get out and Leonard's tired of it. He needs a drink but he needs to do something more. It's almost like Jim can read his mind when he invites Leonard out for a drink. Just because he wants to doesn't mean that he's going to make it easy on him, though.

"Sure, we're under attack by terrorists who plan another attack. What else should we do but go for a drink? Hell, let's get drunk off our asses, shall we? Then we'll be able to really respond." 

"What crawled up your ass and died?" 

"I don't know, Jim, maybe terrorists?" 

"Then we've found them. Bend over and I'll pluck 'em out." Jim puts his hands on Leonard's waist, and that is _it_ as far as Leonard is concerned. Before either of them can blink, he's got Jim pinned to the wall, full body pressed against full body. 

"Can't you take any of this seriously? Thousands of people died, Jim, and you want to go out to drink?" 

"Not all of us can live in absolute misery day in and day out. Some of us have to go out there and remember that we're still alive." 

"Fuck you," Leonard snarls, face a hairsbreadth from Jim's own. 

"That'll do just as well," Jim says and then presses his lips against Leonard's, tongue teasing and tracing and doing its utmost to drive Leonard nuts. He doesn't have far to go along that journey as he opens his mouth at the implicit command of Jim's tongue against his lips. Doesn't need the whispered _open up_ against his lips though he appreciates it and obeys it. 

His hands shift from fisting Jim's shirt to hold him against the wall to drifting up Jim's body and then holding his face, cupping his cheeks and sliding into his hair, skimming along his ears. He takes control of the kiss, holding Jim in place as he ravages Jim's lips and mouth, tongue thrusting in and tasting the beer Jim had had shortly before coming in to hassle Leonard. Jim's hands aren't idle, either. They reach around to grab Leonard's ass and pull him in closer, pushing their cocks together. 

"That's it, Bones, let it go," Jim whispers when they break for air. Leonard's forehead is leaning against Jim's, a slight sheen of sweat between them. "Let it all go. Finally, come on, let's let that tension go." 

At Jim's command, Leonard realizes exactly what this is about and rears back, stepping away from Jim and wiping the back of his hand against his lips. "That what that was about?" 

"What happened?" Jim looks at Leonard's cock. He barely resists covering it from Jim's perusal. Of course he's hard after that taste of Jim. 

"I'm not here for you to let off steam," Leonard spits out and then goes into his room, shutting the door calmly and locking it. "You can't play with me like this." 

He strips, crawls into bed and goes to sleep. 

In the morning, Jim acts like nothing had happened. The coffee's ready and he's greeted with a cheerful, "Good morning, Bones". 

"Morning," he mutters and then pours himself a coffee. 

"Sleep well?" 

"No." 

"Oh?" Leonard looks up to see Jim with a far-too-innocent expression on his face. 

"You're an asshole," Leonard says and, after snatching up his coffee, heads into his room to finish getting ready for the day.

It's still weird to dress in a suit instead of scrubs but he does it, fighting with his tie as he walks back out into the main room. 

"Let me," Jim says as he pulls Leonard's hands away from the tie. 

"Jim, just don't." 

"We'll get to the office faster if you just let me take care of it." Jim's hands are quick, knotting the tie and then smoothing it down Leonard's chest. "There." 

"Jim," Leonard says as Jim's hands stay pressed up against his chest. 

"About last night – "

"I know, blow off steam. I'm not the type." 

"I know." 

"Then why'd you… never mind. Not important." Leonard finds himself whispering by the end. 

"I did it because I wanted to." It's whispered close to his lips, their faces so damned close that Leonard can smell the mouthwash Jim had used that morning. 

"What?" 

"I wanted to." Jim steps away from Leonard and looks at his watch. His entire demeanor changes as he straightens his suit jacket, snapping the lapels into place. "You ready? We're going to be late if we don't head out now." 

"All right," Leonard says, ignoring the entire mood. Being the U.S.S.R. to Jocelyn's USA in their Cold War marriage has proven his fortitude in the art of emotional dismissal. 

When they get to the office, they're immediately summoned to the conference room next to Pike's office. Along the way, Leonard wishes for sunglasses as he always does. He hasn't adapted to the glare off all the reflective surfaces. It's a wonder he isn't treating more eye strain cases let alone the headaches, migraines and possible seizures such glare could cause. He makes a mental note to address it with Pike, again, as they enter the conference room. 

"Nice of you to join us, gentlemen." Pike stands up from his seat and secures the room. The blinds go down and the screen pops up, a map of Las Vegas on it. 

"We've identified the possible targets." 

Leonard slides into a seat next to Sulu. Jim sets a coffee down in front of him and then fixes another for himself. It's only after he drinks the first few sips that he realizes that Jim fixed it perfectly. 

"If you're ready, Jim, we'll continue." 

"Yeah, sure, whenever you're good to go." Jim salutes Pike with his coffee as he slides into the seat next to Leonard. 

"Appreciate the permission," Pike says with a shake of his head before turning back to the screen. "First target is rather obvious: New York, New York. It's a popular tourist spot and obviously, bears the name of a popular terrorist target. The Luxor is another possibility with the iconic pyramid, being eye catching and popular. The MGM Grand is a possibility for its Hollywood connections. There are a handful of others we're looking at for their striking architecture, such as the Paris or Stratosphere – if the terrorists are looking for visual drama, those would provide." 

Pike pauses to zoom in on the area. "We're focusing on this part of the Strip simply because it has so many large, iconic buildings that will have max impact to the purported mission from Narada. Pavel, if you could tell us what you've found about Narada?" 

"Da, sir." Chekov stands up and looks at the group. "The Romulans claim no attachment to Narada. However, the one calling himself Nero bears similar tribal tattoos to that of the Romulan religious order. In addition, we received the tracing information, what there is of it, of the delivery of the video. I've traced it to Kansas, specifically Kansas City." 

"Could someone bring me up to speed? That where these Romulans operate out of or something?" Leonard asks as he looks around the room. 

"Da, the Romulans base themselves in Kansas City." 

"But the Romulans aren't claiming Nero?" 

"No." 

"Great, so we've got two terrorist groups? Any chance they'd be willing to attack one another?" 

"Much as I'd like to see it, I doubt it," Jim says. 

"All right, ladies and gentlemen, pack it up, ladies and gentlemen. Our transportation awaits."

**~*~**

The house is surprisingly unprotected. A little dog that looks more like a dust-bunny than a dog comes barking at the door as Narada slips in. "Ayel."

"Aye, sir," Ayel says as he reaches down, grabs the dog and clamps its mouth shut.

They go from room to room until they find their targets. Nero takes particular pleasure in grabbing the little girl from her bed, picking her up: pink Cinderella blanket, pillows and body. She barely stirs, except to murmur, "Daddy." 

His heart seizing at an unexpected memory, Nero smoothes her hair from her face, clutching her securely against his chest as she burrows against it. "It's all right, baby, go back to sleep," he mutters as she starts to stir. 

"Bunny," she mutters. 

"Of course, baby, I'll get bunny." Nero reaches down, grabs the bunny and puts it into her arms. Thankfully, she drifts back to sleep and he carries her out of the house and into the waiting van.

**~*~**

Leonard spends the entire flight ignoring the way that Jim's should presses into his, the way that Jim's thigh aligns with his as their knees touch. Jim's invading his space and Leonard can't figure out if he minds or doesn't.

By the time he starts to come to a decision, they're touching down, grabbing their bags and disembarking. 

Then they're in a van, air conditioning running high, heading towards The Strip before Leonard puts his hand on Jim's thigh as he bounces in the seat next to Leonard. 

Jim returns the gesture and looks at him. "Yeah?" 

"Yeah." 

"We're here," Sulu says as they pull up in front of New York, New York. 

"Spock, confirm the reservations. Same roommates as Boston. We'll spread out and start the reconnaissance." 

As they get out of the van and head into the casino, Leonard wonders how much they look like a scene out of a movie. They're each carrying a small black bag, wearing suits and striding forcefully into the lobby. Clearly, they're not there to gamble and anyone looking at them would realize it. 

"I'll see you all in fifteen minutes in my room," Pike says as the elevator opens, breaking off to the right. Spock and Uhura follow as Chekov and Sulu head into the room directly opposite from the elevators. 

Jim and Leonard take a left, and go down the hall towards their room. Leonard can feel the tension ratcheting up between them even as they slowly stroll, almost like static electricity running up from the carpet directly to his groin. He shifts from foot to foot as Jim slides the keycard and opens the door. Once they're through, Leonard finds himself pressed against the door with Jim plastered all over him. 

"God, I thought you'd never," Jim says as he licks up Leonard's neck only to suck his earlobe between his teeth and nip it. 

"Never?" Leonard asks as he arches into Jim's hands as they fumble with his belt and trousers. 

"Never… God, you just had to wear a belt, didn't you?" 

"We don't have time for this. Pike wants a meet in fifteen minutes and we still need to finish, _Jesus, Jim_ , keep that up and I'll never make it to the bed." 

"Fuck the bed, we can do this right here. Let me blow you, Bones, please let me blow you." 

"If you insist," he tries for a regal tone, but fails miserably, for all the panting. Likely caused by the way that Jim's yanked down his trousers and underwear, making his knees weak. 

"Oh I do, I really really do." Jim slides down his body and engulfs his cock before he can even think of a response. 

His mouth is hot as it slides along his length, licking at the vein and sucking the tip before starting it all over. Leonard can't figure out Jim's rhythm. Jim's hands on his hips keep him from fucking Jim's mouth but only barely. He gives in to Jim's control for just a moment.   
"Christ, Jim, you've got a mouth on you," he says as he threads his fingers in Jim's hair and fucks his mouth in earnest. He makes the mistake of looking down to see his dick disappear between Jim's lips only to catch Jim looking back up at him. It only takes eye contact and some fucking amazing suction and Leonard's coming, babbling endearments and disconnected words as he does it. 

"Better put yourself together or else everyone will wonder if you just got sucked off by a master." Jim accompanies his words with a nod of his head before standing up and wiping the back of his hand across his mouth. 

Leonard grabs that hand and licks it, tasting himself on Jim's flesh before reeling him in and kissing him. He chases the taste through Jim's mouth, seeking it out to experience how they taste together. When they finally break apart, he asks, "What about you?" 

"Gotta change the pants. I blame you." Jim gestures towards his crotch. "You tell anyone, especially Sulu, and I'll fuck your world over like you wouldn't believe." 

"Oh yeah?" Leonard reaches down to trace the wet marks across Jim's crotch. 

"Yeah. You better believe it."


	3. Chapter 3

They've been in Las Vegas for barely a day when Leonard tries to call Joanna. "Hey, baby girl, I'm in Vegas. Don't want you to worry that I'm not in DC right now. I've got my phone on me so call me, all right? I want to hear about how your recital went." 

When he hangs up, he heads to the meeting, only to find that they've started without him. That's all for the good as he doesn't really have much to add to the skill set they need right now. 

"Anything?" Pike asks as he stands near the window. 

"Sir, I'm detecting communications similar to Narada's previous broadcasts. I'm certain that they're here." 

"Chekov?" 

"Already done, I've taken the liberty of tapping into the casino's surveillance system and adding a bit of my own. The computer is set to initiate the identification protocol and scan for tattoos, as well as Uhura's recommended accent and speech patterns. If they're here, I will find them." 

"Good work, people." 

Leonard watches the back and forth, awed (though he won't admit to it) at the way that the team knows exactly what Pike is asking for before he finishes the questions. 

"Got them! You are mine now!" Chekov shouts before Pike can even finish congratulating the team. 

"What've you got?" 

"Is Narada! The man just entered the gift store, he is buying candy." 

"McCoy, Kirk, go." 

Jim and Leonard push off from where they'd been reclining on opposite sides of the room and hurry down to the elevator, Chekov's voice continuing in the earpieces as they slide them on.

"He is not covering up his tattoos. Has a tribal pattern right in the center of his forehead and is currently looking at the PEZ dispensers. He's buying quite a few refills." 

"Anything else you have for us? Like, say, clothing?" 

"Wearing a grey suit, high-necked jacket with no tie needed. You will see if you hurry. I've caused the register to have problems scanning. That should delay for a bit." 

"Remind me never to piss Chekov off," Leonard mutters as he enters the elevator just after Jim. 

"Boy's a genius, all right," Jim responds as they try to hurry the elevator along. 

"Thank you, both," Chekov says in their ears. Thankfully, the elevator responds to their constant button-pushing by closing the doors quickly and then sliding quickly down to the second floor. "Is amazing how many things are computerized." 

"You're controlling the elevator?" Leonard asks as the elevator stops and slides open. 

"Da." 

"You are one scary kid." 

"Thank you!" 

Leonard keeps the ear piece in as they walk towards the tacky, yellow gift shop. 

"He's buying a large R2-D2 PEZ dispenser. I didn't know they made them in that size. I want one. The larger ones, they dispense a whole row of candies instead of just one." 

Leonard exchanges a look with Jim as they enter the gift store and break apart to look at the various subway and taxi memorabilia. There's a bright yellow stuffed taxi that Leonard thinks that Joanna might enjoy. He gets an eyeful of the Narada operative and wonders how the hell these guys think they could possibly blend with the impossible amount of tattoos on their heads. Surely it would make identifying them easier. Why hadn't more people remembered seeing them in Boston? 

Leonard watches Jim pull out his cell phone, taking a call as he points the phone towards the Narada operative. 

"If you could use your phone, as well, Doctor, please," Chekov says. Leonard pulls out his phone and wanders closer, taking a look at a plush monkey near the operative. His phone buzzes and beeps in his ear, clicking away as if it's working on its own. With the way Chekov is controlling every aspect of the technology within the hotel, that's not as much of a surprise as Leonard would've thought even a month ago. 

The operative looks at Leonard and then back towards the register. Leonard's heart starts pounding as they make eye contact but he likes to think that he keeps from freezing in place. As the operative pays, Leonard calmly grabs a candy bar and walks behind him. After paying for his candy bar, he walks out of the gift store and follows the operative, winding through the upper floor back towards the elevator. He's just far enough behind that he misses the elevator and watches it head into the hotel levels. 

"You're good," Jim says as he stands next to Leonard, clapping him on the shoulder. "You're really good. You should have my job." 

"No thanks, I'd rather be a doctor." 

"Yeah, I don't want to switch either. Let's head back up." 

"All right."

**~*~**

"It worked."

"Of course it did, Nero."

**~*~**

While the rest of the team works their magic, using that PEZ dispenser buying operative as a marker, Leonard tries to call home again and doesn't get an answer. "Heya, Jojo, it's your dad. Just calling in to see how you are and to let you know that Jim's still looking after me. You mind your mama and make sure that you have some fun in the middle of all those hobbies she has you enrolled in. I love you, baby girl. Call me if you want to talk."

"You get through?" Jim asks as Leonard hangs up. 

"Nope, had to leave another message. I thought Jocelyn might've grown a heart. Turns out that was a pipe dream, and she's still not letting me through to Jojo." 

"Maybe they're out of the house somewhere." 

"Yeah, or maybe Jocelyn's turned back into the wicked witch." 

"You going to drop a house on her?" 

"Her and her flying monkeys - that damned team of lawyers were vultures. I'm still paying off a house I haven't seen in four years." 

"That sucks." 

Jim's hand reaches out and touches the back of his. Leonard looks up and then around before holding on to Jim's pointer and middle fingers, giving them a squeeze before letting go. Jim's responding grin makes Leonard smile back, though it fades slightly as Jim steps closer and then another step closer. And then another, until they're a hairsbreadth away from one another. 

"We've got some down time. What do you say we take this back to our room and continue our discussion about penetrating outside organizations until we're so deep in them, they can't think about anything but that penetration?" 

"That has to be one of the worst lines I have ever, ever heard in my life." 

"Yeah? Did it do its trick, though?" 

"Yeah, it did." Leonard leans forward and brushes his lips across Jim's twice. "Let's go penetrate an organization." 

"You're a kinky bugger." It's almost impossible for them to get closer but, somehow, Jim manages it as he steps closer. 

"Just you wait." Leonard reaches around and grabs Jim's ass, pulling him in so that their touching from chest to ankle. He squeezes it hard, drawing a _meep_ out of Jim before leaning in and sucking Jim's lower lip between his teeth and worrying at it. When he lets go of Jim's lip, he leans in and whispers, "I want to penetrate your organization." 

"Oh yeah? It's a super secret organization run by really tight-assed bastards." Leonard bursts out laughing and Jim crows triumphantly, "I win!" 

"Fucker." 

"Not yet. Let's get to it." Jim squeezes Leonard's ass and then steps away, heading towards their room. "You coming?" 

"Not yet. Let's get to it."

**~*~**

"I don't care! You're not my daddy and I don't like you! I want my daddy. Now!" Joanna stomps her foot and, when the bald, tattooed man comes close enough, she kicks him in the shin. "You get me my mommy and my daddy or I'm gonna kick your ass!"

The man limps out of the room and Joanna glares at his back, just waiting for him to try to feed her again. She doesn't like it here. It's dark and dingy, the sheets are scratchy and everyone looks and talks funny. She wants her mommy and daddy. When the man disappears out of the room, she curls on the scratchy bed, grabs Bunny and cries into Bunny's dress.

**~*~**

"Sulu, Spock, you're on point this time. Go," Pike orders, sa they spot the tattooed man once more entering the same candy shop as before. Sulu and Spock hurry through the door while Chekov works with the computers and Uhura listens to the recording.

The scene repeats eerily similar to the last time, down to the time of day. The man buys another PEZ dispenser - this time Darth Vader. Sulu follows the man onto the elevator, palming his phone next to his hip. The Narada agent gets off at the fifteenth floor while Sulu rides the elevator back down to where the rest of the team waits. 

"Anything?" 

"Nothing, sir. He had no phone on him that I could detect." 

"Chekov, find out who he is. I want to know names, family, friends, locations, favorite foods. Anything at all, no matter how trivial. Sulu, stick to him like glue. I don't want him even taking a crap without you knowing about it."

**~*~**

"Joanna, if you don't eat, you won't get to see your parents." Nero holds out a small plate of food towards Joanna.

"No." 

"Just a bite or two and I will take you to your mother." 

"What about my daddy?" 

"You would have to eat the entire plate." Nero takes a few steps closer. 

She crosses his arms and glares at him. "Daddy doesn't like hot dogs. He won't let me have them."

"He's not here now. It'll be our little secret." 

"Nero." Xnder enters the room and gestures towards the door. 

"Eat and you can see your mother." 

Nero leaves the plate on the table and then exits the room, locking the door behind him. 

"What is it?" 

"Enterprise is concentrating their efforts at the hotel's fifteenth floor. Your plan is succeeding." 

"Of course it is."

**~*~**

"Nothing."

"Nothing?" 

"Nothing. Some confirmed tourists. There are a few empty rooms but we couldn't find any evidence of Narada occupation." 

"We'll have to work another angle, then." Pike looks to the group. "Thoughts?" 

"I can set up a tap in the rooms, just in case Narada is in the rooms," Chekov offers. 

"Do it. What else?" 

"We'll expand our search. If they're not here, they should be nearby. The PEZ operative doesn't look hot so he's either close by or parking nearby." 

"Do it. Chekov, expand to the parking garage." 

"Of course, sir."

**~*~**

Nero brushes his hand down Joanna's hair as she cries for her father and mother. He doesn't tell her that her mother is in the next room. She's not as important. Joanna will be the face of the movement; will embody all of the reasons behind why they're doing what they do. The world must be made safe for the children of the world.

**~*~**

Leonard's phone interrupts them as they're dressing for the next meeting. He doesn't recognize the number that pops up but, hoping that it's Joanna, he picks up the phone. "Hello?"

"Leonard McCoy, I'm pleased to finally speak with you."

"Who is this?" Leonard knows the voice sounds familiar but he can't place it. He's no Uhura.

"You've forgotten me already? After the way I remodeled Boston?" 

"Nero." He spits out the name. Jim looks over and immediately grabs his cell phone. 

"I am honored that such a talented and devoted doctor and father would remember me and my work." 

"Yeah, well, I had to clean up your mess. That tends to stick with a guy." 

Leonard hears Jim whispering to Chekov and then hears that distinctive clicking in his ear. 

"I wondered whether your daughter had inherited her wit from you, or your wife. It's obvious that it's your influence." 

"What the hell are you talking about?" Leonard feels the beginning of fear. Chills race up and down his spine as he stares at Jim and Jim's face reflects the fear that he's feeling. 

"Joanna is a feisty little girl. Your ex-wife, however, did not put up much of a fight, once we assured her of Joanna's safety." 

"Cut to the chase. What the hell are you talking about?" 

"You're making me doubt your intelligence. You don't want that, do you? If you aren't intelligent enough, you won't get Joanna back. It would be a shame to deny Joanna the opportunity to grow up." 

"If you harm even a hair on her head – "

"Now, now, we don't want to go the clichéd route, do we? Your daughter is about to become the face of the Narada movement. You will see her on every billboard, television commercial and newscast. Your daughter is very photogenic." 

"You fucking bastard! She's innocent!" 

"If I may, former father to former father, the sooner you accept that she's no longer with you, the sooner you will begin to heal. Goodbye, Leonard McCoy." 

"Bones?" 

"He's got Joanna." Leonard whispers it. All his rage disappears under the onslaught of panic and loss. He's in shock. Distantly, he notes all the symptoms and the proper way to care for his state. 

"We'll get her back." 

"I don't know – "

"I do." Jim slides onto the bed, the one Leonard hasn't realized he's dropped onto, and then wraps himself around Leonard, holding him so close that Leonard can feel Jim's heat breaching the chill of shock. 

"He's got my baby girl." He continues whispering. 

"We'll get him. Remember, Chekov is brilliant. He'll track them down, give him time." 

"Time that bastard has got my baby girl. What's that sadistic bastard going to do to her? What's he going to do?" 

"We'll get him before that." 

"Promise?" 

"Of course, Bones." 

"Say it." 

"I promise we'll get Joanna back before anything bad can happen to her." 

Leonard can't help it. He collapses against Jim and bites back a sob. His phone rings while he's clutching Jim's shirt and pressing his nose into the fabric. He never wants to hear that ring again. 

"I'll get it," Jim says, reaching and grabbing the phone. 

"What do you have?" A pause and Jim rubs his hand up and down Leonard's back. "Yeah. We're on our way." 

Jim hugs Leonard and then pats his shoulder "They've got 'em." 

"What?" 

"Chekov thinks he's got Narada. Come on, we need to meet." 

"Let's go." All the despair disappears as cold rage mixes with determination. They make it to Pike's room in seconds. 

"What've you got?" Jim and Leonard ask at the same time. 

"We traced the cell signals from your phone, triangulated the towers and determined the location. We have traced it to a nearby housing development, a high rise complex that is unfinished." 

"Yeah? Then what're we waiting for?" 

"We need to find out how many people are there before we do anything. We also have to assess civilian impact. There are procedures to follow." 

"Hell no. Joanna doesn't have that kind of time." 

"McCoy, we – "

"I'm going whether you all decide to suit up or not." 

"Doctor, please, I have a plan." 

"Great, you've got a plan." 

Jim holds his arm and says, "Give him a chance to at least explain." 

Leonard only huffs, and gestures for Chekov to detail his plan. 

"We have multiple occasions of the Narada agent we first spotted buying PEZ dispensers. He has bought at least four, all at the same time of day from the same gift store. As you know, the operative has been consistently leading us to inside the hotel, the fifteenth floor. We've discarded that as their base of operations so we have no choice but to try an alternative.

I can hide a camera inside of one, and once he buys it, we can activate the camera and tracking system to spy on the hideout from the inside. With luck, we will be able to determine the location of the hostages, as well." Chekov pauses to let that sink it. 

"A camera and a tracking device inside a candy dispenser? That's just brilliant. Of course, we can fit both in there. And then, of course, we can totally make him buy that exact one, right?" 

"Doctor, Chekov's plan is sound. The thin filament is smaller than the size of a hair and will break when the Death Star is opened to activate the camera, in addition to sending a small signal back to Chekov's tracking system." 

"You people scare the shit out of me but you still haven't answered how we're going to get him to buy that exact one." 

"With these," Uhura says, gesturing towards her body. "Last time he was in, he couldn't stop staring at the clerk's chest. Well, these girls are going to send him right into a trap and teach him to make eye contact with a lady, instead." 

"You are one beautiful woman," Kirk says. "You can lead me into a trap any day of the week." 

Leonard ignores Jim's flirtations to ask, "You really think you can do that?" 

"Do birds sing?" 

"There are many who do not. For instance, the white stork does not produce what could commonly be construed as song. Instead, it communicates through a series of gestures such as head nods, leg lifts and wing flapping." The entire room turns and glares at Spock. "Pardon me. The complexities of ironic commentary sometimes escape me." 

"Get it together, Chekov. We've got a limited amount of time." 

"Of course, sir." 

"What about Nero's comments about being a 'former father'?" Leonard asks. 

"If I may," Sulu interjects, "I'm running that information now. We're looking for child disappearances and deaths around Kansas City to start with and, if need be, we will expand the search. We're doing facial recognition scans for Nero without the tattoos. We've turned up quite a few likely hits and I'm working through them right now." 

"Any known Romulan operatives match those parameters?" Jim asks. 

"Currently, no. I added a variable of possible interactions with Romulans, visiting known Romulan locations and participation in extreme religious organizations. We'll turn up Nero." 

Leonard spends the next few hours pacing the room he's sharing with Jim. He's been kicked out of the main ops room because of his pacing and he can't seem to stop until he remembers Jim's guns. He decides they need a good cleaning (they don't) as he disassembles them one by one, slowly reassembling each one as he thoroughly wipes and oils the mechanisms (they've got Joanna!). He's so fixated on the guns that he doesn't hear Jim enter the room. 

"You're really good with those." 

"Already proved that, didn't I?" Leonard doesn't look up from the barrel he's working with. 

"Chekov's got the PEZ ready and Uhura's in uniform. You want to watch?" 

"Do birds sing?" Leonard asks, eyebrow raised. 

Jim holds an arm up and flaps it, making Leonard laugh quickly. Then he remembers that his little girl is stuck with a bunch of fundamentalist terrorist nutjobs and he shouldn't be laughing about anything at all. 

"Let's watch Uhura work her magic. She'll have this guy eating out of her fingers and begging for that Death Star. Just you watch." 

"Let's get to it," Leonard says as he puts the last gun back together quickly. 

When they get to the command room, the television is on and Chekov has popcorn. 

"You don't think the popcorn is a bit of overkill?" Leonard asks, sitting on the edge of the bed next to Chekov.

"Nope, just wait until you see her work," Sulu says as he reaches over to grab a handful. "She could totally be in the movies." 

Jim sits behind Leonard, leaning against him and reaching for his own handful. They all watch as Uhura takes her position behind the register while Pike wanders the store, picking up this knick knack or that one, taking a moment to admire a keychain before moving on to the tablets. 

The Narada agent enters, right on time, and heads straight for the PEZ dispensers. 

Uhura gives him a moment before greeting him sunnily, smile beaming as she engages him about PEZ dispensers. She offers to assist him and then goes back behind the counter. The Narada operative admires her appreciatively as she bends over slowly to reach under the counter, before pulling out the Death Star dispenser. Uhura begins showing off the toy and raving about how new it is, how it's just come in that morning and that everyone's going to want one. 

The man falls for it, hook, line and sinker. Within moments, he's buying the dispenser and the candy refills. She bags everything up, takes his cash and hands him his change. There's no way to tell that she's only learned the register moments before. They watch as Pike buys a keychain and then heads off-screen towards the elevators. Uhura continues to ring up sales. 

Pike joins them moments later. "That went exactly as planned. She is very good at what she does, our Uhura. Now to wait and see if Chekov's tech works."

**~*~**

"Perhaps she is bored?" Baratt asks as Nero rages about the fractious little girl's unwillingness to do anything that they'd asked her to do.

"If she won't do as she's told, she will be destroyed. Perhaps we will simply let her be the first to die in this wave." 

Baratt nods his agreement but follows it up with a suggestion. "Let me get her a toy. That might help." 

"Do as you wish. I've made my decision." 

Baratt nods again and then slips into the room. "I have something for you." 

"Yeah? So?" Joanna crosses her arms and sits on the bed. 

"Here, try it." Baratt fumbles through the bag and then offers out the newest PEZ dispenser. 

"The Death Star? My dad loves Star Wars." 

"Try it out. Here, fill it and see." Baratt then offers the candy.

Joanna darts over, snatching the dispenser and the candy before sitting on the bed. She tears through the packaging and slides the candy into the dispenser. When she pops back the Death Star, a row of candy is ready for the plucking. "Want one?" 

"Thank you," he says, crossing the room to take one from her.

**~*~**

"It's been activated. We have them!" Chekov does a quick dance and then goes back to the computer.

Leonard hurries over to the computer to shove Chekov out of the way. His baby girl's on the screen, hugging her bunny and humming to herself. "Oh, my god, Jojo." 

"She all right?" Jim asks as he stands behind Leonard, leaning against him and sneaking a hand around his waist to rest his hand on Leonard's chest. 

"Whenever she's scared, she hums to herself, just like that," he says quietly.

"What's that song?" 

" _Bye, Bye, Blackbird_. My mama loved it so much that we named Joanna after Peggy Lee cause of it." 

"Yeah?" 

"Joanna Margaret McCoy." Leonard traces Joanna's face with his finger. "My baby girl." 

"We'll get her back." 

"I'm holding you to it." 

"Sulu, you have anything on Nero?" Leonard asks to distract himself from the myriad emotions swamping him. He needs cold, rational facts to understand why his daughter's stuck with a madman.

"We think he's Neal Rogers. His wife, carrying their unborn child, was on American Airlines Flight 11." 

"That why he's so gung-ho about rebuilding the country away from sin and getting back to the basics, huh?"

"The likelihood of your supposition being correct is approximately ninety-six percent. We theorize that the pain of losing his wife and child in such a manner led him to extreme religion and he is now taking his revenge on all aspects of the culture and country that he believes led to their deaths." 

"I can understand that," Leonard says. Everyone looks at him and he glares at them. "You really think you wouldn't want to rip apart anyone that kills your kid? Wait until you're parents." 

"Your reasoning makes sense." 

"Course it does. Hell, I'd love to kill him just for daring to scare Jojo." When the looks continue, he raises his hands defensively. "I'm not saying I'd do it. I'm saying that I want to."

**~*~**

"My friends and comrades, today is another momentous day. Today, we show the world that sin and infamy will not be tolerated. Today, we remake the world into a virtuous place where we no longer have to suffer the sinners. God is with us, we are His warriors and we will know his word and his way."

"God is good," the group responds. Together, they bow their heads and then break apart, heading to gather their respective equipment. They only have to move a few more pieces into place and then they'll be able to continue their mission. 

"Baratt, get the girl," Nero orders. "And leave the woman, we don't need the extra baggage," he finishes ominously. 

Baratt obeys.

**~*~**

"They're moving. We know what we're doing, people, so let's get to it."

Uhura immediately contacts local law enforcement, assembling them to intercept, and to increase their presence at the large hotels. Spock works with the federal agents moving in. Chekov taps into the surveillance systems all over Vegas, while Sulu, Jim, Pike and Leonard are scoping out the lobby of the unfinished housing development they'd captured the cell phone signal at from across the street, behind the foreman's trailer. They wait.

Leonard ducks out of sight as the PEZ operative walks past them to cross the street in the Vegas heat. Then he sees Joanna holding on to his hand and almost blows the mission, jumping up to race after them. Jim grabs him and pulls him back behind the trailer. "Don't do it yet. She's good for now, we have to play this by the books or she'll die." 

"She's just right there. We can stop it now by getting her right now. Let go, Jim or I'll have to hurt you. I don't want to but I will." 

"Bones, remember the plan." 

"Fuck your goddamned plan! That's my little girl, not yours! You don't get it! We can't all be fancy free with no attachments to anyone at all, you know. Some of us live in the real fucking world and some of us have real fucking people we love. We're not five and we have real responsibilities. That's my responsibility being manhandled by a terrorist! Now let me go!" Leonard turns on Jim, twisting his arm out of Jim's hold only to find himself pushed against the wall and Jim's angry face forced into his. 

"I'm going to forgive you for saying that, because I know you're worried and you're an asshole when you're worried, but don't do it again. Now, go with the plan and we get Joanna out of this." 

"If you guys are done, they're in the penthouse." Sulu intrudes on their argument. 

"Come on, Bones, we're finally going to see a penthouse suite," Jim says, letting go of Leonard and stepping back. 

Radio communication trickle through their ear pieces as Jim, Sulu, Pike and Leonard run across the street and into the building, plastic wrap covering the windows flapping in the hot wind. The wall plaster dust coating the marble lobby floor is covered in footprints, as they call the elevator to get up to the penthouse. 

Their earpieces tell them that Police and federal agents are beginning to capture small groups of Narada agents at various high profile targets such as the MGM Grand, Excalibur, Mandalay Bay and the Luxor. The authorities are working together smoothly, and Jim cracks some joke quietly about the unlikelihood of that happening, but Leonard doesn't hear it. 

All he hears is the humming of _Bye, Bye, Blackbird_ and sees his little girl clinging to her bunny.

**~*~**

"Nero! Enterprise is here!" The call comes as Nero secures Joanna to the chair next to the explosives, video camera already recording, preparing for his message to the world.

"What?" 

"Look!" Xandr rushes in with an open laptop. "They've captured the rest of the teams. We need to escape!" 

"We need to finish this. We can still complete our mission." 

"But, Nero, wouldn't it be better to regroup and try again when they are not so close?" Baratt asks from where he's gathering up their equipment. 

"No, you fool! We will complete our mission!"

"But – "

"Try for the door and I will kill you." Nero pulls his gun from his holster and points it at Baratt. The elevator dings as they stare at one another. "Ayel! Ayel, I need you!" He screams into his radio 

"On my way," His second, Ayel, responds.

**~*~**

"This is Captain Christopher Pike of the United States Department of Homeland Security. Put your weapons away."

"Never!" comes the snarled response. Bullets shatter the marble next to where they're standing. 

"Nero, surrender or we will be forced to shoot." 

"I don't think so." This time, the response is calm. "In fact, I'm certain that Doctor McCoy will insist that you do not shoot." 

"Daddy?" Joanna's voice echoes in the penthouse. 

"Jojo? You all right?" 

Joanna's answer is muffled under the rain of bullets once more. Shards of marble fly towards them as they crouch in the entryway. It's taking all of Leonard's energy and concentration not to run in and throw himself bodily on top of Joanna. "Stop shooting!" he screams, desperate to keep any stray bullets or shrapnel from hitting her. 

Jim, Pike and Sulu are exchanging frantic gestures and commands that he doesn't understand, while the firefights elsewhere in Las Vegas play out in his earpiece. The shooting stops, thankfully.

"We can do this like gentlemen," Nero says. "Step out or, alas, Doctor McCoy will join the ranks of fathers with dead children. Unfortunately, there are many of us." 

"Just because you lost your wife and kid doesn't mean that you have the right to take mine. You don't think that the parents of those kids in Boston don't feel the way you feel? You think you got some sort of monopoly on pain?" 

"It's time to purge the sin and return this country to the state intended by its founders. I regret the loss you are about to experience but – "

"But nothing. _You_ are no better than the monster who took your family from you." While Leonard argues with Nero, Jim and Sulu spread further apart, trying for a better vantage in to the room. 

"Come out, Doctor McCoy and Captain Pike. We have much to discuss." 

"Don't do it," Jim hisses at Leonard but Leonard only shakes his head. He squeezes Jim's hand and stands up then enters the penthouse fully. His hands are in the air above him as he turns the corner. 

"Daddy!" 

"You having an adventure without me?" he asks, ignoring all the men pointing their weapons at him, and trying for a lighter tone to reassure his daughter. 

"I don't like it here. When can we get home?" 

"Soon, baby, soon." Leonard keeps slowly approaching Joanna where she's strapped onto a chair. "Where's Jocelyn?" 

"That's far enough, Doctor." Leonard looks to Nero and glares. "Your ex-wife couldn't make the trip, unfortunately. Now for you, Captain Pike." 

"You won't get away with this," Pike says as he rounds the corner. "I suggest you surrender." 

"Surrender? I don't think so. Please, come sit next to Joanna. Baratt, bring them chairs. Just because they're enemies doesn't mean that we shouldn't provide hospitality." 

Leonard runs his hands over Joanna quickly to make sure she's ok, murmuring reassurances to her before he's manhandled into the chair they bring out. After removing their weaponry, PEZ operative starts to tie them to the chairs when the elevator door pings once more. 

Leonard looks towards the door only to hear more gunfire. Reinforcements have come, but he doesn't know whose. He quickly rolls out of his chair, rushing towards Joanna's and blocking her from Nero with his own body. 

One of the men nearest him falls with a shot from near the elevator and Pike scrambles for his gun. Then he's up and shooting quickly, taking out PEZ operative as the sounds of gunfire from the hall stop. His gun pointed at Nero, Pike commands, "Surrender and we will show you mercy." 

"I would rather suffer the death of my family a thousand times over than suffer your mercy," Nero spits out and then runs towards the sliding glass doors, leaping through them and then off the balcony. 

Leonard shield Joanna from the sight, and unties her quickly. Hugging her close he presses his nose into her hair and begins rocking them back and forth. "Jo, are you ok? Talk to me, baby." Joanna whimpers but clutches him tightly, and he can feel her trembling, but she isn't crying. At least, not yet. Shock, probably, he thinks. Uninterested in doing much of anything but molding his daughter to his body, he calls out, "Jim? You all right?" 

"Yeah, we're fine. Back up arrived." 

"Casualties?" Pike asks, as he gets up to check the Narada bodies. 

They all report back as 'no', something that amazes Leonard considering how many bullets seemed to have been flying around The bad guys really are terrible shots, just like in the movies. He wonders if it has to do with the difference in desperation levels between the guys doing their jobs versus the guys who are willing to jump off twentieth floor high rise balconies in the name of their Gods or causes. 

"Good work, gentlemen." Pike announces. "Let's mop up, and make sure the terrorists are all accounted for." 

Leonard decides that the rest of them can do whatever they want, he's going to stay right here with Joanna.

**~*~**

When Leonard wakes up, Joanna's sandwiched between Leonard and Jim. She'd finally drifted to sleep after begging both of them to stay with her, once they'd returned to the hotel.

They must've fallen asleep, too. Leonard brushes his hand down Joanna's cheek, smoothing the hair out of her face. Then he looks to Jim and finds Jim awake and studying him. 

"You're her hero," Leonard whispers. 

"Naw, you're the one with the gun." 

"She thinks you're the knight in shining armor." 

"That'd be you. I'm prince charming." Jim flashes a cheeky grin to accompany his words before reaching out and touching Leonard's hand where it rests against Joanna's hair. 

"I'll show you prince charming," Leonard mutters. 

"Not now, we've got your daughter right here," Jim whispers back. 

"Jim!" 

"Bones!" 

Leonard glares at Jim, as ineffectual as it normally is. He can't quite stop touching his daughter after everything. Maybe after a few months with her, he'll be able to stop worrying so much over her. He figures that he'll never stop being concerned about how the kidnapping, time in captivity with Narada or losing her mama will affect her life, or her ability to have a normal childhood. 

No matter how much Jocelyn had pissed him off while she'd been alive, he's sad to see her gone, especially for Jojo's sake. Now he's got to figure out how to transition Jojo from her life in Georgia to his life in DC or that's even the best thing for her. There's schools to enroll in and places to live and – 

"I can hear your brain working. You should stop before it overheats and explodes." 

"Just thinking of what to do about Jojo."

"Awesome! I say we take her to the zoo. The DC zoo is the best, I'm telling you." 

"Where's she going to sleep, Jim? I thought I'd take her home to Georgia for now." 

"No way. She can sleep in your room." 

"And where would I sleep?" 

"With me?" Jim says it like Leonard's the biggest idiot in the world. The light bulb clicks on and he realizes that, yes, he probably is one of the biggest idiots in the world. 

"Yeah?" 

"Yeah. It'll be great. The Air & Space Museum has a special thing going, too. Bet she'd like that." 

"Like what?" Joanna interrupts their conversation. 

"You want to come to DC with me?" Leonard asks. 

"Duh, Daddy. Can we go see Lincoln?" 

"Course." 

"And the zoo?" 

"Yep," Jim answers this one with an "I told you so" expression directed at Leonard.

"And the pandas?" 

"Yep." 

"And dinosaurs?" 

"Sure." 

"Hey, Mister Jim?" 

"Yeah?" 

"You did a good job protecting my daddy, just like you said you would. But my daddy protected me. So who protects you?" 

"Your daddy." 

"Really?" 

"Yeah. He's pretty awesome, isn't he?" 

"Yeah, he is," Joanna says, curling closer to Leonard and slinging an arm over his neck. "You're the best daddy. I'm glad that mean Mister Nero didn't hurt you." 

"I'm glad, too, baby girl." 

Jim looks at him over Joanna's head, and he mouths silently, "I'm really glad, too."

Leonard squeezes his hand, trying to, but not entirely succeeding in stopping the warmth enveloping his chest. With his daughter clutched tight and his handsome lover smiling at him, despite the terror and trauma of the last few weeks, he thinks to himself _Bones, you're a lucky, lucky bastard._. It's totally Jim's fault that the James Bond theme trips through his head as musical accompaniment. 

With that, he nuzzles into Jo's sweet smelling hair and lays his head back down to continue to sleep the sleep of the content, safe at last.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please please please take a look at the artwork that accompanied this fic during the Trek Reverse Bang in 2010. It's fucking amazing and is the main inspiration for the details in this fic. View it [here](http://braintwin-bamfs.livejournal.com/3354.html). Then tell Elanorofcastile how amazing she is for that artwork.


End file.
